conversations
listlengths 2
49
|
|---|
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " \"A little illness should be a…walk in the park.” Fourier raised his hand and gave Ferris a gentle tap on the forehead. His touch was so light, but his finger was warm. “Don’t abandon your duty as a member of the royal guard… It was I who had you assigned as Crusch’s knight. Don’t betray the vow we made to each other. The promise we made…as friends.” Drawing long breaths, Fourier smiled again and lay back down on his bed. “I’ve grown tired with all this talking. But I was able to smile with you for the first time in a long time. That’s good.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " Ferris hadn’t smiled. All he had done in front of Fourier that day was weep. But Fourier never spoke wrong. What he said sometimes sounded mistaken, but always turned out to be true."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “It was fun, Ferris.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " So Ferris did everything he could to work his frozen cheeks into a smile. \"Right. This was fun, wasn’t it, Your Highness?”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " The day was clear, but a breeze put a chill in the air. “Crusch…I’d like to go outside for a while. Could you lend me your hand?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Of course, Your Highness. If you’ll excuse me…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Oh! Carrying me yourself? Ha-ha! You are indeed a strong woman. I’m surprised again.” In the courtyard garden of Lugunica’s royal castle, a profusion of seasonal flowers bloomed. But in the bustle and anxiety of the past several months, the colorful flora had found themselves rather lonely."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Well, it’s nice without a crowd. All the better to appreciate the blossoms—you can see them so much more clearly. Don’t you think?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “So you can. Your Highness is always so good at finding the bright side of things.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “I am, aren’t I? I know quite a few good sides of you and Ferris, as well. In that, at least, I won’t be bested by Meckart.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " Crusch knelt in one corner of the garden, letting Fourier rest his head on her knees as the breeze drifted over them both. Fourier half closed his eyes sleepily, the garden floating in his fuzzy vision. “You and I used to come here when we were young to view the flowers. Do you remember, Crusch?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “I remember. I would accompany my father to the castle, and when I got bored, I would always come here…and you would always meet me. It was comforting to my childish heart.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “The first time I saw you…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “I’ll never forget it. You came tumbling out of the sky! I was shocked.” Their conversation about the past began to blossom. Crusch smiled as she remembered, but Fourier shook his head gently."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “You’re mistaken, actually. The first time I saw you was before that… I caught sight of you in this garden, from a distance. You were examining a young bud.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “…I didn’t know. How embarrassing.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Hardly. I was taken with you immediately. My heart beat faster, my cheeks got hot, and all I could do was stand there and look at you. After that, I would always look for you… Truth be told, our meeting was no mere chance. Heh-heh. I’ll bet you were surprised.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Yes, very much so.” Fourier’s eyes crinkled, and his teeth showed as he laughed. Crusch ran her fingers gently through the golden hair that rested on her knees, patted the pale cheeks tenderly."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “On the subject of surprising you, allow me to confess the awesome plans I have for the future…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Yes, Your Highness. Please, surprise me again. Please tell me.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Very well. Listen closely. I… I intended to make you my queen.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “—”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “I would make you my queen, and Ferris would be our knight. And then—then three of us could always be together. It would be cause for contentment like no other. What do you think of that?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “You… You certainly do know how to surprise me…” Crusch found her voice catching, discovered she couldn’t look at him."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " Fourier, the gentle smile still on his face, listened closely to the note of joy in her voice. \"We’ve…been through quite a lot, haven’t we? I so desperately wanted your attention… Heh! It led me to put you and Ferris to a great deal of trouble.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “…Your Highness. It was never a burden to do what you…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Tell me, Crusch… How did I do?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Your Highness?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Was I able…to be a Lion King worthy of your devotion…?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “—” They’d made a promise, once. They’d sworn by the pieces of the days they’d filled with laughter. Crusch’s breathing grew strained at Fourier’s question."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “Your devotion was…precious. Something I cherished. Don’t… Don’t ever forget that.” Fourier smiled as if he were somehow proud of himself and raised his hand. He brushed Crusch’s cheek, touching the hot tears that flowed down it, and traced his fingers along the line of her lips. “Crusch.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Yes, Your Highness.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “I…lo…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “—” There came a gust, a cold wind that tugged at Fourier’s and Crusch’s hair."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Your Highness?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “—”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Your Highness, are you tired?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “—”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “Your Highness, I know how you’ve worked and struggled. Please, rest peacefully.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Fourier:",
"value": " “—”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “One last thing…” The breeze continued to blow. But with her blurring vision, Crusch didn’t see it, not even with her blessing. There, in the garden, Crusch held Fourier close and whispered. “I wish I could have seen the future you dreamed of…”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Miklotov:",
"value": " “—But we cannot sit around looking sad forever.” Miklotov was the first to cut through the thick atmosphere. The old sage looked each of the downcast nobles in the face, trying to rouse them."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “…That’s right. This isn’t the time. His Departed Majesty would be sorry to see us this way.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " There was a chorus of agreement. The sentiment spread, and Crusch found she had no choice but to look up and force herself to smile."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " She pictured his smiling face, remembered how he had always tried to look on the bright side. \"The royal bloodline has ended. We have lost our pact with the dragon.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"There can be no greater tragedy for the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica.” With those words, the image in her mind shattered."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " Crusch looked up, doubting her own ears, while someone in front of her clutched his head."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “How can the entire royal family be gone? What will the dragon do? If we lose our pact, it will be a catastrophe for our nation. What with our relations with the Empire and the Holy Kingdom being as poor as they are right now…!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " What is he talking about…?"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “There’s also the issue of the preserved dragon’s blood. There is always the possibility that its return will be sought. To guard against this, we may see fit to go ahead and use it…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " What are any of you talking about…? Crusch stared blankly as she listened to the grim-faced attendees deliberate."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " With mounting disgust, it dawned on Crusch: None of these people were really unhappy that the royal line had ended. What they were worried about was the implications of it—whether the dragon would abandon them. They were terrified of being turned out from the cradle of the dragon’s blessings. The death of the king, the end of the royal family—these were secondary considerations. To them, Fourier’s death is hardly a footnote."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " That way of living, above all others, repulsed Crusch. She could hardly bear it as it cast a dark shadow over her heart."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lyp Bariel:",
"value": " “There is a matter I must share with you all.” The words cut through the furor of the assembly, and all eyes turned to the speaker. It was Baron Lyp Bariel."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lyp Bariel:",
"value": " When Lyp had sufficient attention from the crowd, he made his announcement in a shaking voice. “—There is a new inscription on the Dragon Tablet. The dragon has already revealed the fate of the kingdom.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lyp Bariel:",
"value": " This caused a fresh uproar in the assembly hall."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lyp:",
"value": " Lyp begins to read the inscription in a hurried tone. \"It says: ‘Upon this, the end of the royal house, the kingdom shall find five candidates chosen by the Dragon Jewels, and with a new shrine maiden, the pact shall be made anew.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Council Member:",
"value": " \"The Dragon Tablet is telling us to choose a new king…? But how are we to find these five candidates?!\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lyp:",
"value": " \"There are insignias,\" Lyp replied hotly, \"jewels passed down by the royal house of Lugunica, which point to their pact with the dragon. The insignias bear those jewels, which will shine when held by one who is qualified as a candidate!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lyp:",
"value": " At a gesture from Lyp, a cart was wheeled into the circular assembly room. Atop the cart were shimmering gemstones, the insignias of the Kingdom of Lugunica that bore the Dragon Jewels. \"If it recognizes you as a loyal retainer who can truly lead the kingdom, the insignia shall choose you. Does the Dragon Tablet speak false? Let each of you be tested in turn.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Assistant:",
"value": " One of Lyp’s assistants went among the people seated in the hall, putting the insignia before each of them. Some broke out in a cold sweat as they looked down upon it. Others gulped. If it were to glow in their hand, the path to the kingship would open. The insignia was set in front of Crusch, as well."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"The dragon? Who cares about…?\" Crusch whispered, not letting the words out of her mouth as she grasped the insignia. She held it out in her palm for all to see."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Miklotov:",
"value": " \"—Oh, my…\" This came from Miklotov, whose normally placid face bore an unusual look of surprise."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"—So it seems even I, inept as I am, can do something for our kingdom.\" She felt no shock. Her heart was too calm for that."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " As this registered with her, Crusch raised her head and closed her eyes. —And in the darkness, she thought she saw Fourier’s last smile."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " \"—Lady Crusch.\" Standing before the flowers, she looked so fragile that he had hesitated to call out."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " He felt the pain of his own powerlessness as keenly as if a blade were digging into his chest. If only he could run to her, embrace her shoulders, and cast some magic spell that would heal her heart."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"Ferris, is that you? Well done, finding me here.\" She spoke without looking back at Ferris, who bit his lip at his feelings of helplessness."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " Ferris watched her hair blow as he said, \"I heard about the Dragon Tablet. They said you’re one of the candidates to become the next king, Lady Crusch.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"Yes, so it seems. The dragon appears to have looked favorably on me.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " \"What can I do for you, Lady Crusch? I don’t know what to do…\" He didn’t want to cause her any additional trouble, but he couldn’t keep a quaver out of his voice. Tears blurred his vision, and he wanted to run from the garden."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"Ferris, look at me.\" Crusch’s voice made him jump. He heard footsteps, and then two feet entered his downcast view."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " He raised his head and found himself looking straight at Crusch. The magic in her amber eyes captivated him."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " \"Ferris, let me vow to you before anyone else—I do wish to become king.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " \"Lady…Crusch…\" Ferris caught his breath at her unhesitating declaration."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " Ferris could not say anything further, but Crusch glanced around them and said, \"The first time I met His Highness, it was in this garden."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “We often talked here and looked at the flowers together.” She spoke gently; her eyes showed that she was remembering something long past."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " Ferris didn’t need to ask who it was she was remembering."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “In time, His Highness began to call at our mansion. I never told you, did I? Until I met His Highness, I always tied my hair back. Now I merely use a ribbon to keep it neat.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " “I never knew. Why did you stop tying it up?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “His Highness told me to be faithful to myself. So that was what I did. I chose the ribbon I gave to you, but…it began with His Highness.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " Ferris unconsciously touched the white ribbon Crusch had given him, which he still wore in his hair."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " She shared one memory after another with him, things he hadn’t known—but one by one, they became memories he and Crusch shared. A bond so beautiful and so lively that he couldn’t stop the flood of tears, or the ocean of smiles. “Ferris, the time that we…that His Highness and you and I shared together…is something I cherish.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " From the day Crusch had led Ferris from the Argyle mansion and first made him human, he had always been with her, and his circle soon expanded to include Fourier as well. A great deal of his life was made up of the two of them. “But the existence of the dragon undermines that precious time of ours,” she went on. “For many, His Highness existed only as a way of continuing the pact. They don’t mourn his death, not really.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " Ferris stiffened; fire danced in Crusch’s eyes. What had she seen? What had happened during that time when Ferris couldn’t be with her?"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “But he did exist, enough to carve himself into my heart and yours. Fourier Lugunica well and truly lived.” With her right hand she touched her chest, and with her left hand, his. It was just a brush of her fingers, but Ferris thought the heat in them might burn his whole body. The fire of her resolve would swallow up every extraneous thought. “The man who was my Lion King did live. I shall never allow anyone to say he didn’t.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " The pact with the dragon embracing the kingdom had protected the people for a very long time. But it had made their hearts weak, so much so that they were willing to ignore the death of this kind boy who had been loved by everyone he met. People’s hearts had grown so frail that Fourier’s death was all but forgotten in the face of the pact with the dragon. “His death belongs to him. My Lion King is within me even now. I still dream the dream my king had—I alone can achieve it.” No one else saw how twisted the life of the kingdom had become."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " Everyone toadied to the dragon, begged favors from it, relied on its help, and in the process they had all forgotten how to walk on their own. \"No ruler but me will try to correct this, for nobody remembers those who sought to be true kings. So it falls to us to do it.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " “Lady Crusch,” Ferris whispered."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " Crusch held out to him a dagger she’d taken from her belt. He took it and found that it was inscribed with the symbol of the Lion King. This was a precious heirloom of the House of Karsten. “His Highness had a dream—of you, and me, and him, the three of us, building the future together.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " “The three of us… Me, with His Highness, and you, Lady Crusch…?” Faced with the striking weight of the dagger in his hand, Ferris finally realized what he had to do alongside Crusch and His Highness, to help in their resolution. Now, he had only Crusch. She was everything."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Crusch:",
"value": " “His Highness loved this place,” Crusch said somberly, “and it’s where he spent his last moments. So I swear to him here: I will make you my knight.” At that, Ferris knelt wordlessly and offered up the dagger. Crusch took it and drew it, touching Ferris first on the left shoulder, then on the right, with the flat of the blade. Then she gave the knife back to him, completing the ritual of vassalage. No one knew a knighthood had been bestowed there that day—except one, or perhaps two, Lion Kings who were present. And it was a beginning, and for the two of them, it was also the continuation of the dream of their Lion King. Crusch glanced back over her shoulder. “We’re going, Ferris. To reclaim our kingdom from the dragon and make His Highness’s dream come true.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Ferris:",
"value": " “Yes, Lady Crusch. Lead me, and I’ll follow. We’ll find where His Highness’s dream takes us.” There was no hesitation as he joined her. The first of the candidates for king, the one most strongly bound to her attendant, walked proudly away. The only ones watching were the flowers in that garden where everything had begun. Bobbing gently in the breeze, a single bud waited tranquilly for the right moment to bloom."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Mm… Mmm…\" The emerging voice had yet to deepen with age. It had a neutral timbre, not obviously masculine or feminine, and its owner looked every bit as innocent as they sounded, exuding a certain unsavory attraction. Murmuring and tossing gently on the bed was a lovely young man. His pink hair was disheveled from sleeping, and his skin was as white as milk."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Ahhh…\" Schult sat up on the white sheets and yawned, rubbing his eyes. They were as red as rubies, which only enhanced his beauty."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Gah, I’m still thin as a rail.\" He stopped rubbing his eyes as his consciousness caught up with reality and instead started pouting as he plucked at his upper arms."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Master Al said that pain is a sign that something is wrong. He also said that I should rest until the pain goes away.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "???:",
"value": " \"Schult, you’re awake?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Oh!\" Schult jumped, turning on the bed; someone else was in the room with him."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " To Schult, she looked like she could have been the work of the most skilled painter in the world; he could almost swear that she was glowing, radiant. \"Good morning, Lady Priscilla.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"Mm. You look as lovely as ever this morning, Schult. And I praise how it felt to hold you last night.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Th-thank you, milady.\" Schult said, enchanted."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " The woman—Priscilla—nodded generously."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " Schult found the approving words immensely gratifying and yet embarrassing; it was a complicated feeling. He understood that his role was to handle odd jobs for Priscilla and to serve as her bed warmer—but he often wished he could repay his enormous debt to her in a more substantial way. That was both how he truly felt as well as his deepest wish. \"Staaaare.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"What’s this? You seem to be looking at me especially closely this morning. Is something the matter?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"N-nothing, Lady Priscilla. You’re still the most beautiful person in the world! And I’m so happy to be able to serve you! But…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"But what?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"I wish I could be of more use to you, Lady Priscilla, but I haven’t the strength. I wish I could swing a sword like Master Al…\" As he spoke, Schult was reminded of the listless, floppy feeling of his own arms. He didn’t have to be as strong as Priscilla’s knight, Al, or even her private forces, the Redmongers. His only wish was to protect her from even one of the threats and challenges she faced on a regular basis. \"When the moment comes, Lady Priscilla, I’ll be your shield… Oh, but my body is so small. You could hold me up in front of you to shield yourself from— Ow! Yow!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"That is enough frivolous blathering. I will decide how I use my possessions. When did you become so high-and-mighty to think you could give me orders?\" Priscilla, who had stood up almost without Schult realizing it, managed to stroke and tug on his ear at the same time."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " Leaning against her palm, Schult said, \"I c-certainly didn’t mean to…\" He looked this way and that. \"Ngh… But if I can’t be your shield, then how might I serve you, milady? Oh, I know! I can cling to you and be your armor!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"This is not a matter of what piece of my equipment you can replace. Schult, I neither expect nor need you to be my sword, nor my shield. The best thing you can do is to continue serving as my pillow.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Just your pillow, milady…?\" His head drooped; her words were merciless. It was painful to hear so clearly that the person he owed everything didn’t consider him one of her warriors, even if he had realized it long ago. His flimsy arms were to blame. Or maybe it was his sticklike legs."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"Hmm.\" Priscilla watched Schult grimly appraise his own body, then crossed her arms, emphasizing her generous chest."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"If you cannot simply continue serving as my pillow, I would rather you read a book than swing a sword. Yes, that would be much more to my benefit.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “A book, milady? So if I read a book, I can become your shield? !”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “No, you cannot. Don’t forget your place.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Sorry, milady…” As the hopeful light that briefly shone in his eyes went out, Schult was quick to regret his overenthusiastic assumption."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla flashed him an amused look, then indicated the room with a wave of her arm. \"There are times when knowledge can do more to save your life than a shield or sword.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Wha?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “It’s a maxim, attributed to some ancient sage. I’m more or less in agreement with it, but I think it’s still one step short of the truth.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Meaning, uhh…” What Priscilla said was difficult for Schult to understand, and he struggled to follow her line of thinking."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Knowledge is the omnipotent staff. A sword or a shield—what use are they when you have no need of them? Can a sword make your fields more fertile? Can a shield heal a sick man? Can either of them enrich your life? They can do none of these things. Knowledge, and knowledge alone, is like a staff that you can lean on in every circumstance. As for me, I stand and walk under my own power. Naturally, that is not to say I never stumble.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “B-but it hurts when you fall…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Yes, it is far from pleasant. You may be injured. You may bleed. However…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Oh! If you have a staff, you won’t fall!” Schult cried as he raised his hand, finally grasping Priscilla’s meaning."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla let her expression soften in apparent satisfaction and patted Schult’s head again. Gently this time, charmed by his understanding. \"That is why you should set yourself to reading books—if you wish to be not my sword nor my shield nor my pillow, but my staff.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Y-yes, milady…! Oh, but…I don’t know how to read…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Ask Al to teach you. He has too much time on his hands, besides.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " And despite all appearances to the contrary, he’s quite a talented teacher. If he can’t manage to put letters into your head, I’ll simply cut off his other arm.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “A very grave responsibility! I’ll try my hardest to learn—for Master Al’s sake!” Schult sat up straighter, spurred by the thought of how awful Al’s life would be without either of his arms. Just as Priscilla nodded in acknowledgment, Schult’s gaze happened to fall on one book in particular. It was the volume that now sat on the chair Priscilla had occupied until a moment before. It had a red cover worked with gold. Schult remembered seeing this one before. Only he, who served as Priscilla’s pillow every night, knew that it was her favorite book, the one she read without fail upon waking every single morning."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Lady Priscilla, what book is that?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “…That one? That is not a book for reading. Rather, it’s…full of reminders, let us say. I doubt it would interest you even if you could read it.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “‘Reminders,’ milady?” Schult tilted his head, not entirely sure what that could mean."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " In response, Priscilla took the book in hand, running her fingers along the cover. “Were you to read it, I doubt anything in it would benefit you. What a reader seeks from a book varies from person to person. Simply feeling the heart leap at a dramatic story is one of the pleasures of reading.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “—? But your staff, Lady Priscilla…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Even I do not read only to learn. Hmm…” Priscilla sat in her chair once more, then opened the book across her knees and scanned the contents. “You amuse me. Schult, I shall read to you for a few minutes.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “You read to me, Lady Priscilla? Oh! I can’t wait!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Heh. Your guileless reactions continue to charm me. In any case… Yes, let’s see…” Priscilla looked at Schult, who sat bolt upright on the bed, and then she began to speak. Schult, grasping this undreamed-of chance, listened raptly. The voice that filled his ears seemed soft and billowy, like a tender song. Her story began as it seemed every story must:"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Once upon a time, in a certain place, there lived a lovely, sweet, beautiful young woman…”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " Once she reached the centermost seat of a long table bedecked with a white cloth, one of the servants pulled out a chair for her, and the preparation for her meal began. A cart full of eating utensils was wheeled in to supply the girl’s place setting."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " As the dishes were being readied, the girl rather abruptly turned to the servant standing at her side. \"What are my plans for today?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Servant:",
"value": " The servant bowed with utmost respect. \"Milady’s room is prepared for your studies once you’ve finished dining. Also, Master Vincent requests that you have lunch with him.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"My studies, hmm? I hope this meal isn’t as bland and uninteresting as those lessons. But you say my elder brother is here; that’s good news. I’ve been waiting to avenge the humiliation of my earlier loss at shatranj.\" Where the servant spoke quietly and humbly, the girl was haughty."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " She nodded, approving of the carefully observed decorum. \"Very well.\" And faced forward once more."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Servant:",
"value": " The servant made no remark on her condescending attitude but took a single step backward, still bowing, and rejoined the line of attendants."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Servant:",
"value": " \"If you’ll permit me, milady.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"Mm.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Food Taster:",
"value": " One of the servants stepped forward and, after humbly asking for permission, delicately picked up a spoon. She took a spoonful of the soup and brought it not to the girl’s mouth, but to her own."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"How wearisome…\" The words formed on her lips but barely left them; no one knew she had spoken but her."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"\" She took a spoonful of soup and brought to her mouth. The way she immediately went back for another mouthful was, perhaps, an expression of her desire to get this dreary meal out of the way as quickly as possible. Well, so long as she observed proper dining etiquette, no one here could or would object no matter how fast she ate."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " “Hrk…” A strangled noise escaped the girl’s lips, and the spoon fell from her hand. Instead of her eating utensil, she grabbed at the tablecloth, pulling it toward herself and sending the dishes and silverware everywhere."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " “Kah— Ghhh—” With her other hand, she clutched at her throat, gasping. Her red eyes shot open, their natural crimson color now made even more brilliant by the tears of blood that rolled down her cheeks. Blood likewise flowed from her nose and mouth. The servants around her were aghast at the unimaginable scene, yet all they could do was watch."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Food Taster:",
"value": " The food taster stood in silent stupefaction and was bleeding from her head just like the young woman. “I d…did it.” She rasped, managing to smile despite what must have been supreme agony. Then she collapsed, knees first, and the fact that she didn’t even bother to throw out her hands as she tumbled to the floor was proof that she was already dead. She’d ingested the same poison as the young lady, yet had managed to fight the effects long enough to convince her the food was safe. She’d held on to make sure her plan worked—truly, she had done everything an assassin could do. Her tenacity had come at the cost of her life, but it had paid off."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " “M—th—” The girl’s chair toppled over, and she fell hard. To the bitter end, her arms and legs spasmed as if clinging to life, but eventually, even her twitching stopped, and silence descended upon the dining hall."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " Two bodies, the assassin and her target, lay next to each other on the floor. It was as if time had stopped; the corpses weren’t going anywhere, of course, but the remaining servants were terrified of making even a single wrong move. If any of them made a sound, time might start moving again, and then this might all be their fault. Such was the strange but overwhelming certainty that gripped the servants and kept them from acting."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Another Girl:",
"value": " “What, what? Is the assassin dead, too?” The girl who appeared in the doorway of the dining hall regarded the two bodies with something close to boredom. At her appearance and her question, the faces in the room became masks of astonishment. For the girl was identical to their mistress, the one who was now dead of poison. No—not quite identical."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " The girl crossed her arms and looked down at her collapsed doppelgänger. She certainly bore a striking resemblance to the dead child, but when they were side by side, it was possible to detect certain differences in the finer details of their faces."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " If the dead girl was the masterwork of an accomplished artist, then the one looking down at her was the very essence of that same beauty the artist had aimed for but could never achieve within the confines of this mortal realm. As they stood there, mouths agape, the servants began to understand. This was the terrible nature of true beauty."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Servant:",
"value": " “Lady Prisca,” said one of the nearby servants."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Hearing them, the girl—Prisca—turned and cocked her head. Her hair blazed orange like the sun, and her eyes were almond-shaped and as red as set rubies. Confronted with the real thing, it suddenly seemed impossible that anyone could confuse her with a lesser. She was simply made differently."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Servant:",
"value": " “Th-thank goodness you’re safe…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Hmph. Your sentiment doesn’t even qualify as trite. Do you imagine I could ever have been laid low by such insipid means? It’s not cheap, though, to find such a capable body double.” She glared at the servant, who kept her head bowed, and then walked over to the double. A body double—someone who looked sufficiently like a person of importance to stand in their place and do dangerous things for them. Wherever plots and plans were afoot, body doubles were standard tools of the trade, and they knew very well that they performed their duties with their lives on the line. Even so, Prisca didn’t specifically wish for her double to die in agony. Considering that they had, of course, chosen a young woman who looked very much like her, it was difficult to not find the scene disquieting."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “So there is someone who wished to make me wear a death mask like this,” she mused."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " As the girl, just eleven or twelve, contemplated the still bodies, the servants stood and quaked. Who could mock them for it, call it cowardice? Certainly no one who had seen the girl—so young and so fair, with a profile so cruel and eyes so very red."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Chief Attendant. Come.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Attendant:",
"value": " “Y-yes, ma’am!” Prisca beckoned to a woman who stepped forward on behalf of all the attendants. Fear was written on her face and in the trembling of her shoulders, fear of a child at least twenty years her junior. This earned her a “Hmph” and a look from Prisca."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She motioned the woman to listen. \"You are the one who decided who would serve in the household today, are you not?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Attendant:",
"value": " “That’s…correct, milady. Therefore, please let all responsibility for this oversight fall on me.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Fool. To what purpose do you think I entrusted you with that job?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Attendant:",
"value": " “What purpose, milady?” The attendant’s eyes widened at the question; she had clearly been expecting a dressing down at the very least."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca smirked at the woman’s confusion. A hideously cruel smile, a terrible sight to behold on the lips of one so young. And yet it could almost have been called alluring."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Still smiling, “If I appoint someone incompetent to look after my safety, certain people even stupider than you will regard it as the perfect opportunity to make me a corpse, bringing them out of the woodwork. A perfect chance to get rid of them all at once.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " And indeed, no sooner had Prisca spoken than the bewildered chief attendant caught her breath as every other servant pulled out a knife, a dagger, or some other weapon from the folds of their clothes. Regarding them with her crimson eyes, Prisca made her choice almost instantaneously. She grabbed the chief attendant by the lapels and shoved her against the nearest dagger. The woman cried out as the blade tore into her flesh, but she stopped shouting almost immediately, her eyes rolling back in her head—an obvious sign the blade had been coated in some sort of quick-acting poison. While the chief attendant was in the process of dying, Prisca leaped backward, landing on top of the table, which was still set with food. She pulled the white cloth from under her own feet and flung it over the heads of the encroaching servants—or rather, assassins."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Wordlessly, the assassins sliced through the cloth; it had only delayed them but for an instant. But that brief moment of blindness was precisely what Prisca had sought. “Ghhh—!” A table knife had lodged itself in the throat of the closest killer, propelled by Prisca’s delicate foot. It tore through skin, and the next kick plunged it deeper. Even with his throat pierced, even with a fatal wound, the man raised his dagger in a shaking hand. But Prisca leaped again, closing the distance to grab his arm and drive his knife into the chest of another assassin. Even getting grazed by a weapon bearing such a potent toxin would be enough to induce unconsciousness. Having it plunged directly into one’s heart meant certain and immediate death."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Assassin:",
"value": " “She’s just one girl!” Cried one of the assassins, infuriated at their dismal attempts on her life."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “And yet I’m clearly too much for you to handle. Trash like you were never going to be worth more effort than this.” Prisca chuckled mockingly. Then she spun the nearest chair around, using it to strip the dagger from her opponent. It clattered across the floor, and the assassin watched it go—until Prisca drove her fingers into his eyes and stole his sight. Blinded, he fell to the floor, only for Prisca’s foot to find his neck. She’d managed to set this group of adults on their heels with the sheer tenacity of her assault, but although it wasn’t a large group, they still handily outnumbered her, and they were regaining their composure and beginning to close on her again. Prisca had another disadvantage: All she had to work with was a tablecloth and some silverware—nothing resembling a real weapon. Except…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m getting rather tired of having to sully my own hands with such bothersome work.” Prisca said."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She looked at her enemies with actual boredom, as if this dire situation meant nothing to her. The look in her red eyes was enough to make the assassins stop in their tracks."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"You must all be complete fools. Do you truly believe after seeing through your little ambush that I would come here alone?\" Her words seeped into them like a poison."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " The assassins who had come for Prisca’s life, fourteen of them, were all simultaneously incinerated. That included those who had died in Prisca’s counterattack. The flames burned green, and Prisca clapped her hands at what truly seemed like a phantasmal spectacle of lives being consumed in fire."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Ha, quite a fine display. The beauty of fire never wavers. Not even when the fuel is the lives of stooges like these. I grant you my praise.\" Prisca said as she gazed at the still-smoldering assassins."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Small figure:",
"value": " \"It’s an honor. The highest honor.\" The voice that answered came from a small figure who had interposed herself between Prisca and her aggressors. Outwardly, she looked to be about Prisca’s age, perhaps in her early teens. On her head were the large ears characteristic of the dog-people, and in her hand, she held what appeared to be a twig—and a rather unimpressive one at that, considering it looked like something she’d simply picked off the ground somewhere. Her young body was slender, her pale skin covered with a minimum of clothing in a way that seemed oddly provocative. Her short hair was silver, except for one distinctive lock of her bangs where there was a shock of red."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She looked at the burning assassins, then turned to Prisca with eyes that showed scant emotion and said, “Disposal complete. I’m glad you’re sa— Burp.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Hold on. Did you just burp at me?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Excuse me?” She shook her head. “No. I did not— Burp.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Fool. You did—that’s what it’s called.” Prisca lightly smacked the other girl with an open palm."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Ow.” The girl said flatly. Then she touched her own ears and said, “Lady Prisca. How did I do?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “A pointless question, but as I said, I praise you. There’s not a scratch on me. And the way you took care of that lot was a sight to see.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “It is all thanks to the spirits.” The girl took her hand off her ears, looking somewhat shy. A pale light began to float in her open palm—a spirit. It had no corporeal form of its own, but enough mana could give it a temporary one. This was a lesser spirit, an entity with minimal strength and will. There were some spirits that could communicate with living beings, form contracts with them to offer their powers and assistance. This girl likewise relied on spirits for her abilities. But she did not make contracts with them. “Gulp.” Without hesitation, she tossed the lesser spirit in her hand into her mouth and chewed."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca began to smile. “A unique sight, no matter how many times I see it: a spirit eater having a meal.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Burp.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca crossed her arms but shrugged at the burping girl. This girl’s special ability was not making contracts with spirits, but gaining their powers by consuming them. A unique ability to usurp the capacities of others. Obviously, not just anyone could obtain the power of spirits by eating them. It was a sign of very, very unusual qualities, and that was why Prisca valued this girl so highly. “Arakiya, you’ve done well to heed my orders.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “…Because you spoke them, Lady Prisca.” Having said the name of the girl, Arakiya, Prisca walked over the ashes of the incinerated assassins, approaching the one body that had not been burned. Her double, whose face looked so much like her own—except the way it was currently contorted in a mask of agony. Prisca crouched beside the corpse, closed its eyes, and endeavored to shift the expression to something more peaceful. “Your face was mistaken for mine at least this one time,” she said. “You deserve not to be seen like this.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “That girl… Who was she?” Arakiya asked."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Someone who was of use to me. Her life held that much value, I suppose. I’ll have her returned to her family, who will be suitably compensated. A reward befitting one who successfully took my place.” As Prisca stood up, it was plain to see from her expression that her interest in the body double was already fading."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She looked now around the room, then up to the ceiling, and then she muttered, “Perhaps I’ll let my brother deal with the cleanup.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent indicated the awful scene in the dining room and flashed a smile that was equal parts amusement and sadism. \"And just as you were supposed to be entertaining guests, this happens. I see my little sister remains as indefatigable as ever.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Indefatigable, indeed. When there are too many flies flitting around, you brush them away, crush them, or burn them. I only did what anyone would do. No one can nor should criticize me for it. And besides…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “And besides, what makes me so conceited as to think I have the right—is that it?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “And besides, my elder brother is no exception.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent winked at his little sister as he recrossed his long legs and looked at the girl beside her. “Very well. I don’t intend to pry, but have you any idea where the killers originated from this time?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “None. Sloppy as their methods were, someone took great care to ensure that the source of this spark would not be found. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t believe I can follow the trail any further. Why, Brother—do you have any ideas?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent offered a cruel smile in response."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Sadly, I can only say that there’s any number of reasons why either of us might be targeted by assassins.\" Prisca wasn’t disappointed by his answer; she hadn’t held out much hope in the first place."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Of course.\" They were in the parlor of Prisca’s mansion, one room that hadn’t sustained any damage. Prisca had chosen this place to receive her brother and his entourage, leaving the dining room in its disheveled state."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent hadn’t so much as flinched upon learning that a substantial number of people had just died in his sister’s home; he, like Prisca, was more than used to this sort of thing. They had each been the target of such attempts on their lives since their youngest days. Among her many stepsiblings, Prisca judged that only Vincent could be as bold as she when it came to these happenings. That said, Vincent wasn’t particularly interested to know that a sister seven years younger than him thought highly of him."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"As for the mansion, let me handle things. If I lost a little sister who’d survived so much for some silly, asinine reason, it would be…a lonely thing.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Lonely! Very admirable, I’m sure. But I admit, I’m willing to be grateful to receive the largesse of a beloved older brother’s fondness.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"You know how some little girls are lovable? You’re not.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"And here I felt beloved was the greatest expression of affection that I could muster.\" Prisca held up a cup of black tea that she’d steeped herself—her one gesture in the direction of genuine hospitality—and lied as easily as she breathed."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent sneered a bit, knowing perfectly well that the claim of love went no further than Prisca’s lips; he took the proffered cup of tea, sipped, and let out a breath. Brother and sister were here doing what they always did: baiting each other and probing at the same time. Despite what seemed on the surface like a rather prickly exchange, Prisca and Vincent were actually quite fond of each other. Indeed, the very fact that Vincent took a sip of the tea without hesitation was, in its own way, proof of that."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Boy:",
"value": " \"Excellency! Your Excellency! I’ve completed a quick patrol of the area.\" The parlor door burst open to reveal a distinctly diminutive but unmistakably self-possessed young man. Slim of build and about the same age as Prisca and Arakiya, his blue hair was tied behind his head. His features were notably androgynous; indeed, he was so pretty that he could almost be mistaken for a young woman, but his behavior and body language was distinctly boyish, making it difficult for anyone to confuse him for a girl. The boy bounded toward them, finally resting against the backrest of the sofa where Vincent had taken a seat."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Boy:",
"value": " \"Goodness gracious, Excellency, you do know how to run people into the ground.\" Then he leaned over Vincent’s shoulder."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"And for a job that’s so boring. It’s a boring job! It’s not that I mind being worked like a dog, but don’t you think I could be better used doing other things?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent's Brother:",
"value": " “If so, jabbering is not one of them. An animal does not lecture his master. You don’t merely work like a dog; you are my dog, and I think you’d best remember it.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “But every dog is supposed to have his day, right, Excellency? Likewise, everyone has a place to best display their performance—a stage! I must stand upon a stage that suits me, a place packed full of what makes me me! Life is too short.” Vincent sighed at the young man, who seemed to have a comeback for every remark."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent's Brother:",
"value": " The young man pursed his lips, but when he noticed Prisca right in front of him, he exclaimed, “Oh! Well, look at this lovely young lady. What beautiful eyes you have. Seeing myself reflected in those rubies, I can’t help thinking I look rather manly—wouldn’t you say?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Keeping your jester at your side is your prerogative, Brother, but I can’t abide his yammering. It’s not to my taste.” Prisca leaned her arm on an armrest and rested her chin on her hand. “Jester? Is there one here…?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent's Brother:",
"value": " Her comments seemed to be lost on the young man, who immediately began scanning the room. “Jester, jester, jester—I don’t see any. Wait—perhaps you meant to say puppy? There’s certainly one of those dozing right by your side.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Puppy? Me?” Arakiya tilted her head and pointed at herself, apparently feeling ambushed by the change of topic."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent's Brother:",
"value": " “Of course—do you see any other? Your floppy ears are adorable, little puppy. But don’t you think you’re a mite…exposed? Even for one who likes to draw some attention? You’re going to attract the wrong type of person going around dressed like that.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Exposed… Too exposed… Puppy…” Arakiya looked at Prisca for her cue on how to deal with the boy and his oh-so-quick banter."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Brother.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Hmm?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I suggest you find yourself a new clown.” No sooner had she spoken than Arakiya disappeared. In less than the space of an eyeblink, she was on the ceiling of the parlor. She kicked off, flinging herself down at the heads of Vincent and the young man. “Arf, arf.” Her outstretched hand began to glow blue, a flame forming to consume the boy."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent's Brother:",
"value": " “My my, how short-tempered. But I must say I don’t disapprove of your reaction. Indeed, I like it very much.” The boy had his sword in his hand—when had he drawn it?—and with it, he met Arakiya’s palm, completely deflecting the surprise attack. He wielded a unique weapon called a katana, which was found in Kararagi, the capital city of the great nation to the west. He wielded it nimbly, expertly avoiding Arakiya’s killing blow. What’s more, he’d drawn a second sword that he now held up to Arakiya’s neck."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " So much as a twitch of the boy’s blade, and Arakiya’s head would be on the floor; the young man’s sword skill was honed and clean. The fact that his spirit as a warrior hadn’t been perceptible before, hidden like a blade in a sheath, was a clear indication of his ability."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “I found him on a battlefield. Scavenging abandoned weapons.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Just couldn’t seem to find what I wanted. I’d hoped to make my name fighting, then buy a nice sword with the money I earned, but His Excellency took a shine to me.” The young man took his blade away from Arakiya’s neck with a deft move and sheathed both his swords in a pair of scabbards at his hip. “Oh, feel free to come at me again. Shall we see if I can dodge you without physically stopping the attack this time? It might make me look even more amazing than I already do, and— Eeeyowowow!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Enough. Don’t let it go to your head. I don’t intend to make an enemy of Prisca. Not yet.” Vincent pulled forcefully on the young man’s ear before he had a chance to get even more carried away. Then he dragged the young man forward by his ear, saying, “Introduce yourself. It couldn’t hurt if she remembers you.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Most pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am. My name is Cecils Segmund, confidant of Master Vincent Abelks here, destined to one day make my name known as the strongest in the empire—as the shining star of this very world!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " At this exceedingly assured self-introduction, Prisca’s eyes widened slightly for the first time. Then she parted her pink lips, and said, “Ha! Listen, you smug braggart. The worst thing about you is that there isn’t one solitary lie in all you’ve said!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Well, I don’t suppose there’s any special reason for me to lie. Ahem, Mistress…Prisca, was it? Your puppy is no slouch, either. Even if she isn’t a match for me.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “This man… I hate him.” Said drawn in by the guffawing Cecils. She puffed out her cheeks indignantly, but Prisca beckoned her over; Arakiya came and rested against her knees as Prisca patted her head."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Still stroking Arakiya’s head, Prisca said, “So, Brother, you won’t ‘yet’ make an enemy of me?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Ah, my sharp-eared sister. Yes, that’s exactly what I said.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I know that you, like me, use your words precisely. It’s obvious enough why you would deliberately say something like that. You’re referring to…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “You always were a quick one, Sister.” Vincent let his face relax into a smile that could almost have passed for pleasant. Arakiya and Cecils, neither quite sure what the siblings were talking about, could only watch in befuddlement."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " Unlike the retiring Arakiya, however, Cecils showed no hesitation in asking, “Referring to what? The both of you seem to know what that means—does it have something to do with today’s visit?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " In answer to Cecils’s question, Vincent stood."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “So you’ve figured it out…or I suppose, in your case, merely guessed. Yes, of course it bears upon this visit. You know we do not have the liberty to simply drop in on each other for a friendly chat.” Taller than the younger women in the room, Vincent gazed down at his little sister."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Her crimson eyes met his black ones. “It will begin?” she asked."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Yes, it shall. The Rite of Imperial Selection. Prisca, you must make preparations to go to the capital city.” Vincent stopped for a moment, but then resumed speaking. He said, “Our father… The emperor, honor be upon his name, is going to die.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I must admit, it’s quite an impressive sight to see all us siblings gathered in one place.” Prisca remarked as she looked around, checking who was present."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “True.” Vincent replied. Half brothers and half sisters sat side by side, tipping back glasses of alcohol. Prisca and Vincent between them could hardly have counted the number of their siblings on their fingers. Prisca’s brothers and sisters numbered no fewer than sixty-six—although, if only counting those who were still alive, the number immediately dropped to thirty-one."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She had eighteen brothers and thirteen sisters, and all of them (all thirty-two, including Prisca) were the blood children of Dreizen Volakia. The Volakian Empire was a melting pot of many peoples, and the emperor chose the strongest from each part of the empire, without regard to what group they belonged to, and took them as his brides, producing many offspring. Dreizen had only sixty-seven possible heirs—hence why he was frequently derided as a seedless boy-emperor. Such mockery was only natural when his forebears regularly sired a hundred or two hundred children as a matter of course."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Not that it makes things any easier for those of us he did father.” Prisca remarked, who was one of them. “With more than sixty brothers and sisters, it’s hard to remember which name goes with which face."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " The situation was so bad that there were some siblings Prisca had never even met, people with whom she shared no bond other than a nominal connection of blood. Why should she ever love such people? And perhaps more to the point, why should she ever hold back against them?"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent’s talk of mutual advantage—now, that was a bond that couldn’t be denied."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Ohhh, look who it is. Prisca, and not looking very impressed.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca said nothing."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"My word! No greeting when it’s been so long? You’re going to make your dear older sister cry.\" The young woman who identified herself as Prisca’s older sibling spoke in a voice that practically dripped with honey; Prisca regarded her coldly."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Begone, Lamia. Listening to that drawl of yours makes me sick to my stomach. I find the sound of your voice far more dangerous than a poisoned dagger.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Cold, cruel, and sharp-tongued. What our dear Vincent sees in you, I’ll never know. Care to enlighten me, Brother?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"I like the saucy ones.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca’s words went beyond cold—they were barbed, practically deadly—but Lamia showed no sign of backing down."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " She smiled graciously, though making no effort to hide the venom in her voice. As if to underline the point, she said, \"Oh, yes.\" She smiled very carefully. \"I hear you were attacked by your servants—and in your manor to boot? How positively awful. I pity to think that you can’t relax in your own home.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"So the bitch feels compelled to howl.\" Prisca glared, knowing just how sly Lamia could be."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia looked downright pleased with Prisca’s reaction. \"I love the face you’re making right now, Prisca. The face of a sorry little child who doesn’t know anything.\" She reached out and yanked Prisca’s lips upward into a false smile. Then as if she had instantaneously lost all interest in her little sister, she sidled up to Vincent instead. \"I can’t help wondering, why call us all to this annex today? Why not the Crystal Palace? Don’t you think it’s rather odd—and with all the flitting rumors of Father’s failing health?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"There’s a significance to it, I have no doubt."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"I wish I could say it’s good to see you’ve all come.\" Dreizen let out a long sigh and cast his eyes over the hall."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"But I notice a few who have chosen not to kneel to me.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Older brother:",
"value": " \"Might I ask what you think you’re doing? Our father—His Excellency the Emperor—is present. You insolent—!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Insolent? Don’t make me laugh. If you and I are both true members of the royal family of Volakia, it should be self-evident which of us is right. And it isn’t the brainless idiot who only knows how to stand on ceremony.\" Prisca replied, merciless."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Older brother:",
"value": " \"Wha—? !\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Older brother? Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry—there’s so many of you, and I’ve been blessed with so few siblings whose names and faces are worth remembering. I’d completely forgotten that you were one of my brothers.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Older brother:",
"value": " \"!\" Unable to bear the humiliation, the older brother in question jumped to his feet, his face flushing furiously. He looked ready to lunge at his much younger sister right then and there."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"Stop.\" But they were interrupted by Dreizen, who simply said,"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Older brother:",
"value": " \"Hngh… But, Father…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"Disrespect to me, you say?\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"If she’s doing it for show, it doesn’t even rise to the level of stupidity. But I do not reprove her for failing to kneel before me. In fact, I prefer this.” With these words, the emperor halted a fight between his children—but not in favor of the elder brother. Rather, he permitted Prisca’s behavior."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " Dreizen brought his bony hands together, looked at Prisca, and said, “Prisca. Why is it that you do not kneel to me?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Surely, you don’t need me to spell it out. It’s because I saw nothing worth kneeling to. You’ve grown old, Father. You hardly look like someone who belongs at the apogee of an empire whose first teaching to its subjects is: Be strong.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " “Bwa-ha!” Thus castigated by a girl of scarcely more than ten years, the emperor didn’t become enraged, but rather, he laughed aloud. With his crimson eyes, he briefly scanned the others who had joined Prisca in not kneeling. “” None of them denied the truth of what Prisca had said. To a greater or lesser extent, all of them agreed with her. In their eyes, the current emperor was not worth kneeling to. “And that is what makes you members of the Volakian Royal Family. That is what makes you my children!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Rommel:",
"value": " “Father…!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " “Rommel, a moment ago, you spoke of insolence. Insolence! What value is there in such trappings?” Dreizen paused, then said, “Rommel… Would you like to try yourself?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Rommel:",
"value": " “Try myself…?” The man called Rommel knit his brow at the emperor’s words. Thereupon, the emperor reached out his hand into the air and gave a great, powerful wave of his arm. The space directly in front of Rommel warped and twisted, the hilt of a sword abruptly appearing from the rift. “” Rommel stared at it, wide-eyed. The others in the room inhaled sharply. The hilt that had appeared was just that beautiful. The scabbard and sword it held were decorated with such loveliness that some exclaimed without meaning to."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " “The Bright Sword, Volakia.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Rommel:",
"value": " “The blade handed down from generation to generation through the Volakian Royal Family…,” Rommel mumbled, looking as if he was flushed with heat. He took his father at his word; his face as stiff with excitement as it was with fear, Rommel swallowed and stepped forward. “S-such a tremendous responsibility is also a great honor, Your Majesty…” Rommel was practically shaking with joy, but Dreizen didn’t answer him. With every eye in the room watching him expectantly, Rommel steeled himself, then reached out for the scabbard that floated in midair. The Bright Sword, which bore the name of its empire, had existed since the founding of the nation. As its name suggested, only the Volakian emperors were permitted to wield it—even Prisca had never seen it with her own eyes before. Nor had she seen firsthand what it meant that only the emperor could wield the blade."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Rommel:",
"value": " \"Huh?\" Rommel said stupidly as he grasped the hilt of the sword and attempted to draw it out."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Rommel:",
"value": " \"!\" And well he might, for the moment he did so, the hand that touched the sword burst into flame, which quickly became a conflagration that consumed him in the space of an instant. Rommel couldn’t even cry out as the flames engulfed him. He could not even speak, for his throat and lungs were the first things to be burned away. He perished without so much as a death rattle. Rommel fell upon the carpet, seared, dead before he even had a chance to writhe in agony. He was so badly blackened, it was impossible to tell whether his corpse had fallen on its back or its front."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Ugh. He stinks.” Several siblings looked like they might be sick as the stomach-turning stench of roasted human flesh began to rise, but Lamia, her brow furrowed, summed it up succinctly."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Only the emperor is permitted to touch it. That much is clear.” As for Prisca, who had recently witnessed her entire entourage burned to ashes, the scene was surprising but not repulsive. Even then, her surprise wasn’t directed toward Rommel’s death, but rather at its source: the Bright Sword."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent offered this murmured assessment."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " \"Silence.\" Dreizen said, cutting off the expression of astonishment at Rommel’s death. The aged emperor looked around the great hall, turning a penetrating gaze on each of his children."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Other:",
"value": " \"Wh-what’s going on?\" asked one of the others in a timorous voice, having noticed the same thing. Namely, the space in front of each of them was warping and twisting, and a red sword hilt had emerged before them. It happened in front of Prisca, and it happened in front of Vincent and Lamia as well. Was this some sort of joke? From thin air had appeared thirty-one Bright Swords, exactly as many as the number of siblings in the room (now that Rommel was dead)."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen:",
"value": " “We will now begin the Rite of Imperial Selection.\" Dreizen announced. He made no acknowledgment of the staggering scene and spoke with only his own unamplified voice. Suddenly, he was no longer the withered tree, the elderly ruler, the guttering flame not worth kneeling to. His eyes open wide now, Dreizen looked like a raging fire. \"The Bright Sword chooses its own master."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Dreizen Volakia:",
"value": " \"Being chosen by the sword is the first requirement for any who hope to assume the imperial throne.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Dreizen Volakia:",
"value": " No one made a sound. \"Your destiny stands before you in the form of the sword. Now! Draw it forth. It is the fate from which there is no escape.” As he spoke, the emperor—or rather, the former emperor—Dreizen Volakia stood, and the hilt of a sword appeared above him as well. He reached up and grasped it firmly—and in that instant, his body was wreathed in flames."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Dreizen Volakia:",
"value": " It was the sign that the sword itself was finished with the previous emperor and now sought a new owner. With the end of Dreizen Volakia, the throne now sat open. This, the destruction of the old ruler, was the sign that the contest had begun. The Rite of Imperial Selection, by which the emperors of Volakia had been chosen for generations."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Prisca.” While everyone else stood transfixed by the sight of their father’s incineration, Vincent said."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca turned at his call, his black eyes meeting her crimson ones. An understanding was established between brother and sister. And then without hesitation, Prisca reached out for the sword in front of her…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “This world bends itself to suit me.” The sword allowed itself to be drawn into her hand. The Rite of Imperial Selection, which would determine the next ruler of the Volakian Empire, had begun. The relentless, remorseless shedding of blood among the imperial siblings had started."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " The Volakian emperor, Dreizen Volakia, was dead. That fact, and the beginning of the Rite of Imperial Selection, filtered into the empire surprisingly quietly. It was hard to argue that in his twilight years, Dreizen had been a very fitting ruler for the Volakian Empire, but at least, his final moments—consumed by a howling flame in front of all his children—had been suitably proud. The emperor’s death meant that there would be a span of time during which the throne sat empty, but the citizenry were used to these lacunae in leadership while the succession was determined, and neither the sovereign’s demise nor the vacancy of the throne particularly upset them. After offering up a silent prayer in mourning for the deceased ruler, the interest of the empire’s people turned toward who would be victorious in the Rite, the dispute for the succession. They went through the names of the emperor’s various children, chatting and laughing as they discussed who would be the next sovereign. Those participating in the Rite were the very ones who had witnessed the emperor’s immolation and who had then passed the first hurdle to becoming the next emperor: grasping the Bright Sword to see if they were worthy. Speaking of which—"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " “So eleven people survived drawing the Bright Sword."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m not sure whether to consider that a great many or a great few, however.” Prisca leaned on the armrest of her seat and sighed. The Rite of Imperial Selection had begun, and the battle to determine the next emperor was already underway. Naturally, Prisca was among those who had drawn the sword and survived. Upon the annihilation of the emperor—which was to say, after the crisping of Prisca’s foolish older brother Rommel—thirty of Prisca’s siblings had remained. Not all of them had chosen to attempt to draw the Bright Sword, however, and ultimately, the number of people who could potentially claim the imperial throne had dropped to eleven. Meaning Prisca had ten enemies, ten rivals for the imperial seat. \"Enemies—it’s almost funny, suddenly finding myself in a death match with brothers and sisters whose existence I was hardly aware of until yesterday.” Prisca perched her shapely chin on one finger, her posture rather extreme. Eleven candidates for the throne. All the others had either refused to draw the sword, fearing their own fiery destruction, or were fools who had met that same blazing fate when they overestimated themselves and mindlessly tried their hand at something they were not qualified for. Neither cowards nor the dead warranted Prisca’s concern. Thus, her only real enemies were the other ten contenders for the succession—and of course, Vincent Abelks was among their number. All the siblings could at least agree that at present, he was both the greatest threat and the biggest obstacle to the succession of any of the others. And so…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “An alliance?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca is silent as she considers Lamia's proposal"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Good heavens, does it sound so strange to you? I should think that in a situation like this, joining forces would be the first thing you would think of. Well… Maybe not you, Prisca. You’ve never exactly been the cooperative type.” Lamia Godwin, her lips rouged scarlet, smiled, but it only made her look like a venomous flower. Prisca’s half sister was another of the children who had survived the drawing of the Bright Sword—and she was also among those Prisca despised most in the world. Lamia must have felt a similar hatred for Prisca. They had spent every day until this moment hating each other so intensely that it had seemed one might well kill the other long before the Rite gave them an excuse. Hence, Prisca could only smirk when Lamia visited her mansion—and came bearing a suggestion like this—immediately upon the beginning of the succession dispute. While Prisca considered the proposal, Lamia, sitting on the sofa, let her eyes wander around the empty parlor."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “This house does feel a little lonely, doesn’t it? Not nearly enough servants… I know how much you like showing off. It’s a little pathetic somehow to think you live your private life in such meager circumstances.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m afraid you’ve caught me just after I uprooted each and every useless servant I had."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Some she-devil planted a whole troop of fools in my home, and I’m afraid good replacements have proven hard to find.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “A she-devil? Oh my. That must have been terrible for you.” Lamia smiled innocently and checked her fingernails as she offered a banal bit of sympathy."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca didn’t pursue the matter at this moment. She had no proof, whereas she was sure Lamia was more than prepared to talk her way out of the matter. Prisca’s victory this day would have to consist of making sure those preparations went to waste. Anyway, she had more important matters at hand."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Yes, Prisca? Whatever’s the matter?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Nothing. I simply never imagined that, servants or no, I would ever be entertaining you in my house.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Goodness, I’d almost think you don’t like me. Well, I know you don’t like me. Neither of us likes the other.” The obligations of hospitality held no meaning. After all, Lamia didn’t so much as take a sip of the tea Prisca had offered her. This went double when the person you were entertaining was a blood relation—such was the way of the Volakian Royal Family. To do otherwise was to evince a great deal of trust in one’s host—or else to demonstrate that one had absolutely no enmity toward that person. Otherwise, it would be unimaginable. Ultimately, neither of these conditions could be hoped for between Prisca and Lamia. But it was precisely because of their relationship, in which only blood could wash away blood, that Lamia’s suggestion was worth considering."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “What do you say? Will you think about your dear older sister’s idea?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Fair enough. At the very least, I offer you this much praise: It is an unexpected move. I never thought the first person to approach me for an alliance would be you. I was sure—”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “That I would immediately take advantage of the excuse I finally had to kill you? Ooh, you do know how to push a person’s buttons, Prisca. Surely, you don’t think I would do something so reckless, do you?” Lamia perched her chin on her hands in imitation of Prisca and smiled cruelly. Mimicking the other person’s behavior was one way of establishing a rapport in conversation. It wouldn’t work on Prisca, naturally, but Lamia didn’t shift positions as she went on to say, “Of course, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t occurred to me to crush you first. But even I know how to use my head, you know. My lovely, perfectly coiffed head.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca didn’t respond."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Say I impulsively destroyed you—what then? What happens after that? Only an idiot acts without thinking about the consequences. Like our brothers and sisters who didn’t take up the challenge of the Bright Sword.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " To mock the dead, and dead relatives at that—Prisca winced. It wasn’t due to anger at Lamia’s remark. She was just irritated that, for once, she completely agreed with her sister. Indeed, thus far, Prisca was in total agreement with Lamia. She shared her disdain for their more cowardly siblings, as well as those who had been incinerated when they tried to take up the sword. And she, too, had briefly considered immediately making her first move of the Rite against her most hated sister. Most hated, of course, not so much because the two didn’t get along, but because Prisca had judged Lamia to be one of her most dangerous enemies. She had no doubt that Lamia was among those whom she would want to eliminate most swiftly. There was, however, another, even more deadly foe. Namely…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Our beloved brother, Vincent Abelks.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “You never cease to be the most unpleasant woman…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lamia smiled triumphantly, having all but read Prisca’s mind."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca felt the bile rise in her throat when she saw the barely concealed viciousness that rested deep in Lamia’s eyes. At least it appeared that she was not the only one struggling to endure the humiliation of talking to the sister she hated most without letting it turn into an outright duel to the death."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “The only way to stand a chance against our brother Vincent is to work together. And as long as I have to work with someone, I see no point in choosing chaff and trash. If you’re going to take poison, who would pick anything but the strongest poison? And besides, I somehow suspect you agree with my assessment.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “And that’s why you come to me with talk of alliances? Exactly the sort of underhanded scheme you would come up with.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Underhanded? I’m hurt. I wish you would say sly.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Sly—indeed. The perfect word for a vixen like you. I don’t object.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia laughed, emitting a sound like a tinkling bell; it was the laughter of someone who was sure that even here, her back was not against the wall. Sure, because her Pruning Force would ensure that Prisca could do no violence to her. It was her private army, recognized as the strongest among all the retinues in Volakia. It wasn’t as if the Pruning Force was surrounding Prisca’s mansion at that moment, of course—but its very existence posed a threat to her. She and Lamia might be speaking in solitude, just the two of them, and this might be Prisca’s home—but the sisters were certainly not on equal footing. Lamia might look defenseless, but she was anything but, and she knew it."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Prisca, I think highly of you. I haven’t the slightest interest in House Benedict. Only you personally.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca said nothing."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “So I decided to make you my friend before you became my enemy. Sure, we might have to kill each other before this is over, but that’s all the more reason to play nice now…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “You’re suggesting you’ll protect me so that I won’t snap like a delicate branch? Awfully conceited of you, I’d say.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “I’m sorry to hear it bothers you so much. But do you even have the option of saying no?” As she spoke, Lamia spread her arms, making her chest—far more generous than one would have expected for her sixteen years—bounce. Then she looked Prisca straight in the eye and said, “I’ve been preparing for a long time. Getting ready for this very day. Judging by the age of our now-dearly-departed emperor, I knew it would have to come soon. A few years sooner than I expected, perhaps, but within tolerances. I don’t expect any trouble from anyone else, unprepared and thoughtless as they are. Except…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Except what?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Except who. You and Vincent are different. Everyone knows Vincent is a threat. But you, Prisca—you’re a threat, even if you don’t look like one.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca said nothing."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “I know you’re dangerous. The question is, how dangerous? In what way? If you don’t know an animal is venomous until the moment you reach out and it bites you, it’s too late. And so…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca said nothing."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “So you mean to keep me close and observe me?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Surely, one sister is allowed to bounce another on her knee?” Lamia uncrossed and recrossed her legs, which were hidden by her skirt, before stroking her own thigh invitingly. She gave a thin smile, the look of a woman who understood that her beauty was one more weapon she could use to bewilder those around her."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia looked at her and nodded in satisfaction. “I never thought I’d have a chance to say this to you—but you don’t need to decide right away. Take as long as you need to reach a favorable answer and then tell me.” Smirking in the knowledge that Prisca couldn’t reject her proposal immediately, Lamia stood up slowly. Then almost languorously, she turned her back on Prisca, as if inviting her to cut her down then and there— No, it was more like she was emphasizing the fact that Prisca wouldn’t, couldn’t rise to the bait."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Ah yes, I’ll be back for my answer… I’m sure you know when.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “When you’re done pruning, no doubt.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Heh-heh. That’s right!” Lamia turned only her head to glance back at Prisca, and then her beautiful, malevolent visage exited the parlor, letting the door close noisily."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Damned vixen.” Prisca muttered as she watched Lamia leave, not bothering to escort her even out of the room. Lamia knew Prisca’s mansion well enough anyway; she didn’t need a guide. And with the Pruning Force waiting for her outside, there was nothing in the empire that could have stopped her."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca was alone in the room—until a new voice spoke."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Princess. Is this all right?” The voice belonged to a silver-haired girl who slipped out from Prisca’s shadow—Arakiya. As Prisca’s attendant and the sole person she could count on in battle, Arakiya alone had been present at the meeting, watching from the shadows. It had been overkill; there had never been any real chance that Lamia would attack Prisca under those circumstances. In fact, Lamia had probably known she was there."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “There’s no all right about it whatsoever. I have nothing to gain by striking now. Much as it nettles me to say it.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “You could have had her head.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Yes, but think: What would we have lost in exchange? I’m sure you would have taken off her head, had I not insisted that you refrain from doing so.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “—I hate her. She makes fun of you, Lady Prisca.” Arakiya stubbornly held on, like a child; Prisca put her hand on her chin, pleased with the way Arakiya’s eyes glinted with hostility. The way she wore her heart on her sleeve and the devotion she showed Prisca made her seem like a pet. That adorable side of hers was one of the reasons Prisca kept her around. Unfortunately, the trade-off seemed to be that she wasn’t always the quickest thinker…"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “And comparing myself and our older brother—what a bit of cruelty. In any case, I know you will obey the strictures I’ve given you. So long as you do, then you should grow strong and healthy.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “? Yes. I will. I understand.” She didn’t sound like she really understood, but Prisca knew she would try her hardest. That was enough."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “As for that scheming woman, let her think I’m dancing to her tune for a while. Don’t do anything rash, Arakiya.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “” Arakiya didn’t say anything."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Arakiya, answer me.” Uneasy that there was no response, Prisca knit her brow."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya finally touched the lock of red hair at her forehead. \"I wasn’t helpful. Are you mad?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “What do you mean?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “I lost. To Master Vincent’s blue-hair.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Oh, that.” Prisca remembered: The source of Arakiya’s insecurity was her defeat by the young blue-haired swordsman Vincent had brought along to the mansion the other day. Arakiya rarely fixated on anything other than Prisca, an attitude she justified with her special qualities as a spirit eater and her fighting prowess."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Fool.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca flicked Arakiya on her drooping forehead, causing tears to brim in her eyes. Prisca found the sight rather endearing, but she repeated \"Fool\" once again."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"I am neither stupid nor mad enough to hold on to tools that are of no use to me. Remember that, Arakiya: It is not your place to denigrate my tools.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Even…myself?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Do you believe that you are your own?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " That drew a wide-eyed look from Arakiya, who quickly shook her head. Her ears flopped with the motion, almost as if she was wagging her tail. And indeed, the tail on her behind was wagging energetically, so perhaps she was feeling better."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Then, Lady Prisca, what is…pruning?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Pruning means to allow plants or trees to grow by cutting away unnecessary leaves and branches. In a word, it’s a chore that will have to be done to seize control of the Rite of Imperial Selection. I have no intention of involving myself in such trifles, but…\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Yes, Lady? What is it?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"I think it’s the first thing Lamia will do. That’s just how vulgar she is.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " Every child born to the Volakian Royal Family had the Rite in the back of their minds. True camaraderie among these siblings was rare. Getting too close to any of them ran the risk of developing attachments—and that could hamper their ability to coldly go about the business of murdering them when the time came. Thus, the children tended to keep their distance or otherwise hate one another openly. “But even that is groupthink. Don’t you agree, Lamia?” Bartroi turned toward his visitor—his younger sister Lamia, with her beautiful red eyes."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Oh, yes.” She said with a thin smile. “Bartroi, my dear brother, I do so admire how you think. Whenever did you start having these ideas?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " “During the time I’ve had to think—naturally, there’s been enough of it. This accursed ritual has been around for ages. And when you grab a rusted chain with your bare hand, you risk cutting yourself.” In other words, careful preparation was crucial. Bartroi clenched his fist demonstratively."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia nodded, acting deeply impressed."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " Bartroi’s hand, however, had not grasped the Bright Sword, as hers had, on the day Dreizen had died. Bartroi had declined to participate in the Rite of Imperial Selection. Nine others had joined in him in electing not to reach for the sword—everyone else accepted the test, and ten of them had burned to death, leaving only eleven to contest the succession. Including Rommel, who had died before any of them, eleven siblings had lost their lives that day. And quite frankly, Bartroi wished to keep further sacrifices to a minimum. “That, Lamia, is why I made my agreement with you.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “That when I ascend the throne, you and the others who chose not to participate in the Rite will be under my protection. I know.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " “Yes, exactly.” Bartroi nodded. “And that’s why I convinced the other nine to come around.” Ten of the siblings, including Bartroi—the dropouts—had surrendered their right to participate in the Rite of Imperial Selection before it had even begun. Ultimately, those Bartroi hadn’t persuaded had challenged the sword and lost their lives to the flames. That said, his work was not in vain. Ten people who would otherwise have burned had been saved from being annihilated by the sword. Once again, as a rule, the siblings of the Volakian Royal Family were not close to one another. Bartroi, however, endeavored to be an exception. He engaged proactively with his brothers and sisters, creating relationships that made them feel safe coming to him with their problems or asking for advice. It was all in anticipation of the Rite of Imperial Selection. “But if I may ask, why choose me? I’m just a little girl among all our siblings, if I may say so myself.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " “That should be obvious. Because you were the one who inspired these thoughts in me, Lamia.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “I was?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " “Indeed. I believed you of all people would understand me."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " You asked when you were little—you wondered if there wasn’t some way that this could end without siblings having to harm one another.\" At the time, Bartroi, still young, had been seeking something that might possibly be done—and these words, spoken by his little sister like a passing dream, had hit him like a revelation. He had contemplated them ever after, followed them to where he stood today. \"The Rite began as you predicted, but you don’t seem to be getting any closer to victory. I and our other nine siblings will work with you. Then maybe…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Then maybe we can overcome our brother Vincent? Is that what you’re thinking?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"That’s right.\" Bartroi nodded, although his throat went dry at the mention of Vincent’s name. Vincent Abelks was one of Bartroi’s half brothers. But his greatness, his strength of personality was tremendous, and for better or worse, it didn’t feel much like they were related. The young man stood at the top in every realm of knowledge and strategy. Fearsomely clear-eyed, Vincent had restored the fortunes of House Abelks, once fallen to among the least of the noble families of Volakia, raising himself to the rank of high count entirely through his own talent and skill. By all rights, Vincent appeared closest to the imperial throne. Thus, it would have made sense for Bartroi to approach him with his offer of cooperation. \"Except that I highly doubt I can expect any familial sympathy from Vincent.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"And it’s so much harder, isn’t it? Negotiating with someone who can get what he wants without your help.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"You truly are insightful, Lamia.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Hee-hee. Don’t worry, I’m not angry. After all, this just means that when you couldn’t go to Vincent, the next person you thought of was me. That’s not such a bad feeling.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " Bartroi smiled slightly at the way Lamia’s pride and self-regard slipped through in her remark. And she was absolutely right, of course. After Vincent, Lamia seemed most likely to emerge victorious. That wasn’t to say that the other ten candidates weren’t all perfectly qualified, but in Bartroi’s opinion, it was Lamia who had the best chance of besting Vincent. Her, and another of my little sisters—but she’s no more sympathetic than Vincent is. \"She may be young, but she has everything she needs to be ruler of Volakia…\" If the Rite had begun perhaps five years later, that young woman might very well have been a prime contender in the imperial succession. But it was simply not to be. And so Bartroi had approached Lamia with his proposition."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"All right, my dear brother, let’s talk about what comes next.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Mm, yes, pardon me. I was lost in thought. What comes next. Yes, that’s important.\" Bartroi would have to communicate to the other nine refusers what they were going to do after this. At the moment, none of them had any idea whom he was working with."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " The plan he and Lamia were hatching could shatter the Rite of Imperial Selection, the most important ritual in all Volakia—there was no telling where information might leak from. He couldn’t be too careful. The day was near at hand, though, when all his travails would be rewarded. She will keep her promise, he told himself. \"I know it was to save our siblings, but I do regret obliging you to challenge yourself with the Bright Sword. That day, if—”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"If I’d burned, too, it would have been quite the problem, wouldn’t it?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"There are no truer words! Ahem, not that this is any laughing matter.\" Bartroi shook his head, chastising himself for the sardonic smile that had crossed his face. Trying to relieve the persistent dryness in his throat, he refilled his empty cup with more wine. Maybe it was the sense of accomplishment at having fulfilled his great mission that made the drink seem to go to his head so quickly. Or maybe he just wanted to try to blind himself to the fact that even as they spoke, people to whom they were connected by blood were openly killing one another. He drank some more, swallowing noisily. \"By the way, Bartroi. There’s something I’ve been thinking about, just in passing.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Oh? What’s that?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"You know how they say that humans can perform tremendous displays of strength when gripped by rage or desperation?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Rage…or desperation?\" Bartroi looked at Lamia from his place on the sofa, not sure what had brought on this subject."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " His sister sat stone-still, except that she held up two fingers and nodded. \"Yes, exactly. These nine siblings that you’ve brought me, Bartroi… Well, they know the situation they’re in. I’m sure they’ll all cooperate with me out of desperation. But do you think some of them might be frightened as well?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Well, it’s true that they’re hardly a group of born fighters.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"And yet we must band together if we’re going to achieve our objective. They need anger. Fury powerful enough to overcome their terror. Such as…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Such…such as what…?\" Lamia’s honeyed voice sounded oddly distant to Bartroi. His head felt so heavy, and the world around him seemed…insubstantial. His head bobbed forward. His throat was so dry. He needed another drink. That had to be it. He poured more wine, more and more, until the glass overflowed. Finally, it fell over, and the drink began to dye the carpet scarlet…"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Well, for example, what if the dear, sweet elder brother all of them were counting on lost his life to a cruel trap?\" He couldn’t even hear Lamia’s voice anymore. So dry. His throat was so dry. He wanted more wine. Yes… The wine Lamia had given him as a gift. \"The wine…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia looked down at Bartroi, who had followed his glass in toppling to the wine-stained carpet. Her older brother had already stopped breathing; he didn’t so much as twitch."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " On a whim, she flexed her fingers and took her own glass, from which she had not drunk a drop, and poured the contents over Bartroi’s head."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Gracious, I must say I’m surprised. To think, he hadn’t taken a single measure to protect himself.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia flung the empty glass on the ground and then smirked at her brother’s corpse, her red eyes narrowing. \"All these years you spent preparing…only to die a dog’s death. You truly were a stooge, Brother.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Although to be fair, all ten of them would probably have been burned alive had they dared to grasp the Bright Sword.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"And that’s why you’re dead now, dear Brother.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Your Excellency, we’ve safely overpowered them,\" a man said in a rasp as Lamia continued to stare down at her dead brother."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " He appeared in the reception room… \"Beautiful work, Belstetz. I presume you didn’t have any problems?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " \"None at all.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Your Excellency:",
"value": " \"As Your Excellency indicated, Master Bartroi kept the bare minimum of personnel here at his mansion.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": ":",
"value": " \"Hmm. Interesting. Imagine, we were blood relatives, yet it never occurred to him to protect himself.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " Belstetz bowed respectfully and was silent."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia hated the elderly, but that was because so many of them were so thoroughly incapable. As long as they knew how to handle themselves, she didn’t mind their existence. Still, she felt the elderly were too eager to speak in general, and the best way to handle them was to shut them up. \"That, at least, is something I admire about my dearly departed father’s dedication. He knew that expiring pathetically on his deathbed would cast a pall over all his achievements. And we wouldn’t want that.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " No matter how strong and virile in youth, age made fools of everyone. It was Lamia’s opinion that the system of imperial succession, which replaced the ruler before that could happen, was supremely logical. She, too, hoped the curtain would come down on her life before she grew old and her intelligence and beauty withered. “Although, I do plan to make it last as long as I can.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " “—Very well, Your Excellency. If you have no objections, shall I continue with the plan?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Yes, please do.” The strategist wasn’t interested in entertaining Lamia’s stray remarks, but in continuing his work. She didn’t blame him for that nor reproach him—she only nodded and winked."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Bartroi was dead, and the moronic siblings he’d rallied to his cause had lost their standard-bearer. Already unqualified to take part in the Rite, bent as helplessly as branches in the wind, they had only one choice: to seek someone new to guide them. They would find Lamia. “We’re dealing with a cabal brought together by my brother Bartroi. I can only assume their heads are empty, every one. When they hear our brother is dead, it will be a simple matter to wrap them around my little finger.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " He was just as foolish as the siblings who, misjudging their own ability, had attempted to grasp the Bright Sword and been destroyed; that was Lamia’s true opinion of Bartroi. However, in that his foolishness had ultimately resulted in at least some advantage to her, there was admittedly a measure of value in his life. As she made to leave the room, Lamia stopped and turned back toward her brother’s corpse, his face still buried in the floor."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Say, Bartroi… Dear Brother. I want you to know, I didn’t hate you—not really.” There was no answer—of course there wasn’t. But Lamia wasn’t looking for one. She wasn’t trying to apologize or somehow salve her conscience. She was simply offering a report."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “You were just the easiest to manipulate. The most susceptible to the innocent blathering of a sweet little girl.” She was letting him know that it had all been nothing more than an opening gambit, a strategic move made when she was still very young."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Anastasia:",
"value": " It was her last gift to the dead man, and then she sinuously glided out of the room, leaving the rest to her strategist, who stood with his head bowed. By the time she emerged from the door of the mansion and started boarding the waiting dragon carriage, she’d already forgotten her brother’s face. Then she smiled sweetly. Her attention was already on her next objective."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Anastasia:",
"value": " \"Now, the pruning is done. I can’t wait for what comes next, Prisca.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"I think this will be the outermost extremity of the Rite of Imperial Selection.\" Prisca murmured, tapping a red folding fan to her lips as she observed the completed cordon. She was encamped atop a small mountain, protected by the Benedict family’s personal army. They were all dressed in red armor—Prisca’s personal preference—but they were something less than elite troops, lacking in training and untried in battle. But morale, at least, they had in spades."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I don’t need them to be gifted, I just need them to do what I tell them. Arakiya, you’re there?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Mm… Beside you.” Arakiya said, appearing from among the Redmongers at Prisca’s call. She startled the soldiers, who hadn’t noticed her presence at all."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca held up a hand to still the murmuring, then turned and looked at Arakiya. As ever, Arakiya was dressed in minimal clothing, her arms like twigs, but battle-ready. She looked so frail compared with the soldiers in their full armor—but there was a reason she was dressed the way she was. Vincent’s boy swordsman might have ridiculed her for it, but leaving her skin exposed was a way of maximizing her abilities as a spirit eater. According to Arakiya’s own account, lesser spirits prized harmony with nature and thus shunned anything worked by human hands. Hence, her minimal state of dress was a way of attracting those spirits—her food."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Maybe I’d feel differently if she were ugly…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “—? What do you mean, Princess?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I only mean that you are beautiful. Lovely enough to withstand even my scrutiny.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Thank you…I think?” Arakiya tilted her head, somewhat perplexed that her appearance was suddenly the topic of conversation."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " At any rate, this was no time for idle chitchat."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Reporting, Your Excellency!\" said a messenger who rushed up to Prisca. He pushed through the army, his red armor rattling, and knelt before her, offering up a scroll."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya took it, broke the seal, and handed it to Prisca."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca looked it over and grunted, “Hmph. Who gave this to you?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Messenger:",
"value": " “Count Belstetz Fondalphon, the strategist of House Godwin!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Belstetz… That old fossil.” Prisca considered, recalling the face that went with the name, then closed one eye in contemplation."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Princess. The letter… What does it say?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Nothing important. We’re to act as the rear guard when the assault on the castle begins.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Rear guard…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “In other words, we’re to watch from behind while everyone else does the fighting.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya’s face went through a series of expressions as she learned the content of the message. First, her brow was knit in incomprehension; then her eyes went wide; and finally, she puffed out her cheeks in displeasure."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Princess… I think, maybe, they are making fun of us.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m sure she seeks to humiliate us, yes. That vixen is never above inflicting her little cruelties. But she would never be reckless enough to endanger the victory.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “What, then?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I think she believes she can win without seeking our help. Although, with that army at her command, I can’t say I entirely blame her.” Prisca, seeking to placate the annoyed Arakiya, gestured around them with a thrust of her chin."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya looked in the direction she indicated and spotted a series of banners; several other private armies were encamped around them, just like Prisca’s."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " The collective army looked down on the castle that belonged to the Abelks family from a ragged cliffside. Prisca, who was now just one part of the threat to the brother who was most likely the greatest threat to her, smiled."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"...is to see just how hard my brother plans to fight now that he’s trapped in the vixen’s hunting ground.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Pruning Force member:",
"value": " “Destroy Vincent Abelks! For Lady Lamia!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Pruning Force members:",
"value": " “For Lady Lamia!” With a collective roar, the Pruning Force launched its attack against the enemy fortifications."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " In concert, the rest of the combined army began advancing quickly on the Abelks castle. Even as their combined footsteps became a rumble and then seemed to shake the very earth, the Abelks forces did not move."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “Brace yourselves!” someone shouted, and the first wave broke upon them."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “Ahh! Good spirit I’m seeing here. I don’t disapprove—in fact, I like it!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " At that instant, the men in the vanguard had the impression that a breeze had blown past them."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Pruning Force member:",
"value": " “Oh…” Struck by a sudden unsteadiness in their vision, many members of the Pruning Force stopped in their tracks and put their hands to their heads. They dropped their shears, trying to hold up heads that were suddenly heavy. But it was no use. For the necks that should have borne those heads had been sliced clean through."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " Unable to support their heads, they tried to cry out in vain. But before they could even fall to the ground, the rest of the unit, still charging from behind, slammed into them and trampled their bodies before finally, their erstwhile bodies parted ways with everything above the neck. Only then did the others realize that the vanguard had been cut down—but it was too late."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Someone:",
"value": " “You need all kinds of speed on the battlefield. Quick intuition, quick judgment, a quick sword arm."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " \"I think that makes me something pretty special—but even so, aren’t you all a bit too slow?” Cecils's words cause astonishment through the ranks as quickly as a silver flash. Soldiers were dying almost before they knew they had been killed."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Ah, His Excellency truly is incredible! It’s like he knew that if he gave me the sword I wanted, I would become twice as effective on the battlefield!” Cecils shakes the blood off his blade and laughs merrily. He was an attractive youth wearing a pink kimono and zori sandals, with two swords at his hip."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Pruning Force:",
"value": " “Keep your guard up! Surround him and cut him down!” A soldier shouts."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Ooh! I do like how quickly you collect yourselves. Very good. I was just thinking that it wouldn’t be very impressive if the enemies I was chopping up during my big moment were just a bunch of straw men. If a man doesn’t know how to die dramatically, how’s the main character supposed to look good?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Pruning Force:",
"value": " “The kid’s crazy…! Are you Vincent Abelks’s—?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Crazy? Now, that’s not very nice. But to answer your question, yes. Absolutely. Very much so. You couldn’t be more right!” The boy turned his head, scanning the Pruning Force before raising his sword with a flair as he slides his sandals across the ground."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “My name is Cecils Segmund! Confidant of His Excellency Vincent Abelks, and destined to one day be known as the greatest swordsman in Volakia! I am the flower and main character of this world—and I will cut you all down to clear a path to the imperial throne for His Excellency!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " \"What’s this? That’s where you’re supposed to cheer and applaud… Come on, don’t be shy.” The boy cocks his head, his tied-up hair bobbing from the motion."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Cecils:",
"value": " “Maybe it was a mistake to offer my name before I got yours?” And then still working under that misimpression, he set to work greeting the great shears with his sword."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " “The Godwins’ elite forces have made contact with the Abelks troops!” And so battle had been joined."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " War cries shook the air down below. Beginning with Lamia’s private army, the Pruning Force, the net began to close around Vincent."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " The front line was steadily approaching Abelks castle. However… “The first line of defense should have crumbled almost immediately. The fact that it hasn’t—I suppose it’s because that accursed swordsman is so skilled.” Prisca snapped her folding fan shut and gazed at the line of battle with her crimson eyes."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " At this distance, the troops looked no bigger than beans, but she could see him at work, the overwhelmingly powerful swordsman keeping Lamia’s forces at bay. A secret weapon that Vincent had deliberately revealed to her before the Rite of Imperial Selection had begun."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She’d known he was even better than Arakiya, and yet… “It is still stunning to see him like this.” He was literally a one-man army, holding fast against their entire force. It was difficult to believe. Lamia had brought more than five times Vincent’s forces to bear on the siege of this castle—and yet that calculation was based on the assumption that one of her soldiers was worth the same as one of his. A single fighter who could hold off a thousand troops naturally upset that calculation. “I feel antsy…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Does he bother you so much, Arakiya?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya, who was waiting as Prisca had bidden her, watched the battle unfold as well, letting her lips curl in displeasure. “Yes. Yes, he does.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Is it okay? If I go?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “As much as I would like to indulge you, I can’t permit it. Stay here by my side. You might not get your chance at him on this battlefield, but…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “…your strength will be needed in due time.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " That was all Prisca had to say for Arakiya’s expression to change. She blinked, and her look of annoyance became the mask of a warrior."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca nodded approvingly, then ordered a nearby soldier to prepare a detachment. The numbers of the clashing armies were within tolerances—just. Prisca was preparing to sally with the detachment when she heard a voice. \"Prisca. Where are you going?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca winced at the unexpected question. Nobody nearby noticed her reaction, nor did they respond to the voice—for they didn’t hear it. It spoke directly into Prisca’s mind. A one-way mode of communication, essentially telepathy. She knew only one person who could do that—someone who, like her, was here on this field as a participant in the Rite of Imperial Selection. “Mind your manners, Paladio. Who said you could speak to me?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " “I didn’t realize I needed special permission to talk to my own sister.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Telepathy took a certain knack, but Prisca was able to respond immediately—something that seemed to surprise him, even if only slightly. The entire point was to be able to capitalize on the way telepathy set someone back on their heels. “What a petty little ploy. Booby traps and parlor tricks—is that all the Demon Eye Clan is good for?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " There was a beat before Paladio said, “Lamia told you to stay in the back.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"I advise you to refrain from acting on your own.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " “A doll that does whatever you tell it. How cute. I’ll be happy to dress you, too, if you like. But as for me, I never had any intention of dancing to that vixen’s tune.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " “So…treachery? At a moment like this?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Ha! There, you finally made me laugh. I’m going to plug the hole in the line.” Paladio’s concern was evident even through the telepathic connection."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m not going to waste time explaining myself to the ignorant at this moment.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Tell Lamia whatever you want.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " “You’re so profoundly crude that no one would believe I’m your older brother. I’ve always hated you, Prisca.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Well,"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " The Volakian Royal Family was known to be a little odd—and when Vincent saw the power of calculation Chisha displayed in getting the carriage moving again after its wheel had snapped off in a gutter, he’d plucked him from the street then and there. From that moment, Chisha began to serve Vincent personally, although he was always intensely aware of how unsuited he was for the position. And he was most unsuited for a battlefield like this—for the war of succession they called the Rite of Imperial Selection. How many nights had he spent asking himself why he was here? And yet no other person could have been entrusted with such a major role—which left only him. He hated to give detailed instructions, and anyway, there was the pressing issue of whom his master would trust. On that point, Cecils was technically an option, at least, but Chisha was of the opinion that the idiot mutt couldn’t be expected to stick to a given strategy. And so after much deliberation, Chisha had concluded that if he wanted this job done right, he was going to have to do it himself."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"You don’t look pleased, Chisha. Your pallor is even worse than normal.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"I suppose so, sire… I was just lamenting my own position.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"Lamenting? Why so?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"First, because I’m not fond of plans that involve risking my life. And second, because I not only suggested the plan but agreed to take part in it myself—quite strange, coming from me.\" He ran a hand through his neatly coiffed hair and sighed dramatically, as if to indicate how much trouble it all was. His voice almost sounded like a quiet cough."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " And yet oddly, no one had ever complained that he was hard to hear or understand. At this moment, too, he spoke softly."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent listens to him, simply chuckled."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " How exhilarating would it be to interject that this was hardly the time for laughter? Of course, Chisha was too rational to do such a thing, and his master too important to reproach. In the distance, they could hear shouting punctuating the cacophony of battle. An explosion of lives being stolen and defended, each pitting their own values against the other. And at the center of it all stood the man who was now here with Chisha: Vincent Abelks. Vincent, the man well understood to be the closest to the throne at the beginning of the Rite. It was only natural that he would become the target of the other claimants, but this encirclement was even more vicious than expected. The attacking force they currently faced sat on the high end of the scale of danger they’d anticipated."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"It is still within my expectations. Which means the progress of events is still within my con—\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": ":",
"value": " A fiery voice interrupts Chisha's quiet murmur, that almost seemed to burn his eardrums."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": ":",
"value": " \"I see, I see. You’ve found yourself some decent pawns, Brother. You have my compliments.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " For a brief instant, it felt like his thoughts had been lit on fire. The voice, strong and overpowering, belonged to a girl who brimmed with the confidence that her flame could consume all. Chisha felt compelled to swallow hard, his face stiffening. He watched as a group emerged from the shadows: a princess cloaked in crimson, flanked by Redmonger soldiers and a silver-haired girl at her side. “Prisca Benedict.” Standing across from the unflappable young woman, Chisha was suddenly aware that his throat was strangely dry. He forgot to include any honorific when he whispered her name."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca herself chose not to remark on it. Indeed, it—he—was beneath her notice. She cast her gaze past the stunned Chisha to look at Vincent standing beside him. “I’m glad you made it, Prisca. I hope you’re well.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Of course I am, Brother. And just imagine how much better I would be if your head were to fall from your shoulders right here and now.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " They stared at each other, a brother and sister with an unbridgeable gulf between them, their reunion reeking of blood. But they were both smiling."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " They both knew this and acted accordingly. They each saw that the path they walked led to the future of their nation…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “Heh!” The reunion shared by the brother and sister facing each other, Vincent and Prisca, was as violent as a thunderclap. Standing there amid the greenery, they exchanged what amounted to brief pleasantries, and then as if on cue, they both stretched out a hand. Instantly, each of them was grasping a beautiful sword that glowed red."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " This world was said to be home to ten magical swords of unparalleled power. The Bright Sword was one of them, and if anyone unworthy touched it, they were burned to a crisp instantaneously. The sword had been passed down in the Volakian royal household for generations, and for the span of the Rite of Imperial Selection, there were as many Bright Swords as there were candidates for the throne. Nobody knew why. But did the existence of multiple Bright Swords dilute their luster? Absolutely not. “” The twin blades cut through the gloom of the forest like lancing sunlight. Prisca and Vincent advanced toward each other easily, swords in hand, and offered an exchange of blows as elegant as if they were dancing, bathing the forest in a shower of red-and-white light. The two opposing flames intertwined, each heightening the heat of their opposite; the scene was beautiful. Fire consumed fire and threatened to consume anyone else who dared touch it or even get close. By all rights, several of these swords should not have existed at the same time; to see them pitted against each other was a vision beyond the wildest of fantasies. The siblings’ entourages were slow to react; they felt their skin singed by the wave of heat—and it was only then that they comprehended what was happening. Only then did they realize that their masters were already engaged in a life-and-death duel."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “What a grave miscalculation! It turns out I had no time to be staring and wondering!” The hot wind against his skin brought Chisha back to himself and made him lament his mistake. He searched in the folds of his clothes and produced a folding fan—made of iron, turning it into a proper instrument of war. He readied himself to assist his master. Before he could reach the fighting, however, he was thrown to the side, cast away from the very spot he had been about to use as a springboard to leap into the fray. The blow was as vicious as the bite of a wild animal. Chisha glared at the one who had dealt it to him, and then he smiled with his almond-shaped eyes."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “The princess is busy. I won’t let you interfere.” Arakiya stood with her back to the heated confrontation between Vincent and Prisca. She was a young member of the dogfolk with brown skin, a good deal of it exposed."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " In her hand was a perfectly ordinary tree branch; she almost seemed to stand at total ease, appearing highly vulnerable. And yet Chisha found himself swallowing hard, his cheeks stiff. He realized that she was a wild animal, just like Cecils. \"I'm not the kind to do physical labor myself.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"? I’m Arakiya. For the princess’s sake, I fight.” Her answer was utterly brief—but that itself spoke to her deeply rooted, immovable loyalty."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " Chisha sighed deeply. In that case, they weren’t going to get anywhere by talking. He settled into a fighting posture with his iron fan, while behind him, Vincent’s soldiers likewise readied their weapons. “I myself and these soldiers behind me fight for another, but with the same dedication. I’m afraid I don’t plan on participating in anything so inefficient as a duel. You must forgive me.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Um…?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “To put it succinctly, I intend to overwhelm you with sheer numbers,” Chisha announced, and the soldiers took this as their order to charge, which they did with gusto, screaming and shouting."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya’s eyes went wide. She glanced behind her at the battling siblings—Prisca wielding the Bright Sword gleefully, Vincent receiving her every blow and responding in kind. Arakiya stepped forward, intent on preventing any interference. “Difficult things, I don’t understand. But this is for the princess. For the princess, I would die.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Every soldier who pressed in against her was charged with the fervor of battle. Sword and spear were the only means they had of expressing their lust for war; they would drive them into Arakiya’s skin, tear her flesh, shatter her bones, and end her life. Battle was merely a ritual to achieve such ends. Life pitted against life to the finish. Well, Arakiya could enact that ritual, too. “Nom.” Almost lazily, she popped a spirit into her mouth. It was good timing; lesser fire spirits, touched off by the battle between Prisca and Vincent, had begun to gather around. Arakiya simply took one into her body and turned its strength into hers. That was the natural course of action for a spirit eater. “Bowwow.” Arakiya crouched low, her entire body surrounded by a faint-blue glowing fire. They were too beautiful to be described with ordinary terms like the flames of hell, but regardless, it was impossible to avoid the impression that she was wreathed in fire. As a momentary shock passed through the attacking troops at the sacred vestments, Arakiya poured her strength into her legs and leaped at them. Her body floated as easily as the wind, passing by the first line of soldiers. She simply dodged their attacks, and the men, as they turned to pursue Arakiya back into the formation, noticed something: Their own bodies were now engulfed in blue flames."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Soldiers:",
"value": " “Nggghhhaaaa! !” The soldiers howled in agony, consumed from head to toe by scorching heat."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Hold fast!\" someone shouted."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Well, this is downright annoying…\" Chisha, placed his free hand over the hand that held the iron war fan."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Gah!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Gghh? !\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Gyaaahhhh!\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"No more of this…\" Chisha, making the difficult choice to end this pointless hemorrhaging of troops, stepped forward."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Soldiers, fall back, please,\" Chisha said. \"I will deal with that…thing.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya stopped moving. She remained crouched on the ground like a dog, but she looked up at the tall young man, tilting her head and staring at him intently."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"I am Vincent Abelks’s strategist, Chisha Gold.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “I am Princess Prisca’s dog, Arakiya.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Introductions complete, the two bosom companions of the participants in the Rite of Imperial Selection launched themselves at each other. But it was only a single clash, the contest decided in a blink. Arakiya approached Chisha, with his iron war fan, from the ground."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " Recognizing the low attack, Chisha brought the fan down, slamming it into the girl’s head. Her silver hair, with its single lock of red, was stained with dark blood—at least, such was what Chisha had expected to happen. But the instant before his blow connected, Arakiya opened her mouth wide and swallowed a pinprick of light. Suddenly, she was gone; he couldn’t see her. As Chisha stood there with his eyes wide, Arakiya, still on the ground, kicked out at him. His slim frame lifted into the air with the impact, which almost seemed to pierce him. It ran through him from his back to his belly, Arakiya’s branch tearing through his torso and pinning him to the earth."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Gah—hhh—” He wheezed. He coughed up a spectacular amount of blood, but with the branch holding him in place, Chisha couldn’t even collapse to the ground."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya backed quickly away from him, looking toward him only to say, “There,” her fingers steepled. She turned to report to her mistress that she had vanquished the powerful foe."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Prin—” But a second later, a red light from above swallowed up Arakiya, along with the entire forest."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She’d worked her way around the vast Crystal Palace, where the party was being held, looking for Vincent and meanwhile working on her brother Bartroi, who always seemed a little too unwary of his younger siblings. Just as she finally found the brother she was looking for— “Prisca Benedict. That’s my name.” \"\" —next to Vincent, she discovered a young girl in a bright-crimson dress."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " \"Magic-stone cannon strike confirmed. When the smoke clears, I will inform you of the results.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"I don’t care if you use up every magic stone we have; just make sure you get me what I want. You’re to keep me updated as and when the situation develops.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " \"Milady.\" Belstetz replied with a respectful bow."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia rested her chin on her hands and looked out at the forest, which was now a blazing field of light. She smiled. She’d brought so many of her brothers and sisters together to enact this encirclement of Vincent. That she had included even her mortal enemy, Prisca, in this number was not in fact a sign of how much she wished to be sure she had the strength to defeat their brother. It was because she knew that Prisca’s presence was itself the poison that would finish Vincent. \"Didn’t I tell you, Prisca? I think quite highly of you. You’re the next most dangerous sibling after our dear brother… You think more like him than any of us. That’s why I knew you could find him. I was sure.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Paladio:",
"value": " \"Vincent and Prisca were in the same place. I’m sure they were both caught in the blast.\" The telepathic report from Lamia’s coconspirator, Paladio, assured her that her plan had worked."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Surely, you didn’t really think I came all the way to your house just to corral you.\" She’d had this plan to use Paladio’s special abilities brewing ever since the Rite had begun."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “My heart finally feels lighter, Prisca,” Lamia said, placing her hand to her generous chest as she pictured the repulsive face of her half sister."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Lamia, when this is over…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Yes, yes, I know. I’ll give you a fingernail or a lock of my hair or whatever you want. You’ll be able to come after me anytime, day or night.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “For that matter, the fact that he actually still thinks he can beat me makes him even stupider than dear Bartroi.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " The stones were so powerful that the cannons had proven unable to cope with the resulting force, tearing themselves apart in the process of firing. Not even a member of the Volakian Royal Family could have escaped unscathed under such an assault. Not even if there were two of them. This was the masterstroke that would secure Lamia’s victory. And now…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Scout:",
"value": " Mutters, “That’s impossible!” Peering through a spyglass."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Even if she couldn’t make out exactly what was going on, however, Lamia herself could tell that something wasn’t right. The forest, which should have been reduced to splinters by the barrage, was still intact in one place, the trees still standing. And what had caused this inconceivable state of affairs?"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Scout:",
"value": " Shouting, trembling. “There’s someone at the point of impact! A silver-haired dog girl… It’s Prisca Benedict’s right hand!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia’s eyes widened. Prisca’s right hand—Lamia remembered the taciturn, inexpressive mongrel… “I’ve got to hand it to you, Prisca…,” she growled. She stood and marched over to the scout, snatching his spyglass. Through it, she could see ground zero, where Prisca’s little friend lay prone on the ground, breathing out smoke. Somehow or other, that mutt had completely foiled Lamia’s cannonade. The dogfolk girl didn’t so much as twitch; Lamia couldn’t tell whether she was dead or alive. But she didn’t care. What mattered was the scale of the destruction in that patch of forest—or rather, the lack of it. There was no way Prisca and Vincent were dead. Meaning the first phase of her plan had failed. But Lamia had another arrow in her quiver—and another after that. “I never imagined I would actually have to use Bartroi’s little insurance policy…” She was recalling a suggestion left to her by her brother, the one who had voluntarily thrown away his right to the throne. The other nine siblings who had likewise declined candidacy were cards in her hand, and she would play them to finish off the wounded Vincent and Prisca both at a stroke. Lamia lowered the spyglass and started to give her next instructions. “Begin the ambush. Their hearts might not be in it, but they’ll slow them down at least…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Soldier:",
"value": " A sharp voice interrupted. “Your Excellency!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " She reflexively raised her arm, and the Bright Sword she grasped in her hand singed the air it passed through, incinerating the arrow that had come flying at her. She might have blocked the first attack, but the arrows came relentlessly; her soldiers, slow to react, surrounded her to shield her with their own bodies. “But how did they figure out where I was camped?” she asked."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Wait… It can’t be!\" Sensing the answer to her own question, Lamia peered out at her attackers from behind her soldiers. Looking directly into the oncoming barrage, she saw that her guess had been correct."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Vincent Abelks…\" Lamia ground her teeth after realizing her opponent had been wily enough to pull off this maneuver. The handsome face of Vincent, the man who had put her in this situation, floated into her mind, and she thought about how much she hated him."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Don’t tell me… He was working with my dear brother Bartroi all along?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"You’ve been working with him this whole time, haven’t you, Prisca?\" And with that condition achieved, the attack against the now-outmaneuvered Lamia intensified."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " \"Your Excellency! Leave this to us. You must find your way to the Pruning Force and retreat.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Belstetz, you have the line. Hold them here, even if it costs you your lives.\" She instructed."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Belstetz:",
"value": " \"Yes, Excellency. Be safe.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " With that brief farewell, Lamia left her camp, which had become a battlefield. She took with her only the elite troops of her personal guard."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Meanwhile, Belstetz was launching a vigorous attack against the traitorous siblings, but he no longer occupied her thoughts. She was already thinking about how to get out of this situation and planning what she would do once she was free. It seemed like the same thing always happened to her plans. “If you control them with emotion, they can be taken from you by someone who wields a greater emotion. There’s something cheaper and simpler than jealousy or greed. It’s fear.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia could almost hear the plans crumbling in her mind—and the one who had brought them down, had destroyed everything she had worked for, was none other than the person who stood easily in front of her. Vincent’s man, the true manslayer."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Manslayer:",
"value": " \"Hey there. Real sorry I was late getting here. I tried to hurry, I really did, but it’s tough work being the first sword on the stage. I think I’ve caught the mood here, though. Maybe I can finish this up without too pathetic a performance.” He smiled—a young man holding a sword and drenched in blood. How many crowds of people had he slain? He was almost entirely red with splattered gore, his unusual kimono so badly stained that it was impossible to tell what color it had once been. What made the young man so aberrant, however, wasn’t that he was covered from head to toe in blood but the fact that he paid this no mind; it was the way he moved and spoke with total nonchalance, and the overwhelming, almost demonic presence he exuded that made it clear beyond any doubt that he only dealt in death. That was the strangest and most awful thing about him."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Soldiers:",
"value": " “Excellency…” The soldiers wearing the armor of the Pruning Force stepped forward, putting themselves between Lamia and the young man, choosing to make themselves a shield so that he could not approach her. Every one of them knew that this choice meant their deaths."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Manslayer:",
"value": " “Hmm, yes! You shine with a brilliant resolve to protect your mistress. That’s a beautiful attitude! Truly stupendous. I don’t disapprove of such tragedy—in fact, I like it.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Soldiers:",
"value": " “We’ll never let a monster like you get near Her Excellency!” The young man struck like lightning; the soldiers met him with their giant shears. At the instant of collision, what could be heard was not the terrible sound of blades cutting flesh, but the echo of a great crashing of weapon against weapon."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia knew her soldiers were dying; still, she stepped over the bodies of the Pruning Force, escaping to where the boy and his sword could not reach her, fleeing to where he could not follow, running, running, running. And when Lamia Godwin finally reached the place she was running to…"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Prisca Benedict—that is my name.\" So she’d said arrogantly back when they had first met at that garden party. Prisca had been five years old at the time; it had been her first garden party."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia Godwin had understood instinctively—this girl was destined to be her lifelong archenemy. \"Oh? I’m Lamia Godwin, your oh-so-sweet elder sister.\" She’d forced herself to smile, but Prisca had the same instinct."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"\" The only reason Lamia hadn’t strangled Prisca to death then and there was because Vincent was watching like a hawk. He was an intelligent young man; the tension between the two hadn’t escaped him. Lamia had sent assassins after Prisca on a fairly regular basis after that, but she’d always known it would be little more than a nuisance to her sister."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Say, Bartroi, my dear brother… Why can’t all us siblings just celebrate our father’s birthday together in peace?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " \"Oh, Lamia… The same question pains me, too. But it’s simply not possible for us.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Not possible for us to get along? That’s… That’s so sad…\" \"\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Bartroi:",
"value": " Bartroi said nothing."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"Yes… You’re right. It’s just like you say, Lamia. If only we siblings could go without hurting one another…\" She played the part of the innocent little sister to the hilt, and Bartroi swallowed it hook, line and sinker."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “Truly, you are the most unlovable little sister…” Lamia straightened her hair with one hand as she watched Prisca, who stood with arms folded."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca’s crimson eyes were far from cold; indeed, they burned intensely, the same way they had that day at the garden party. Prisca looked at Lamia."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia looked at Prisca, a perfect mirror image of that day when they had each realized the other would be their mortal foe. \"How did that little puppy of yours save you from my cannonade? If it hadn’t been for her, I could’ve wiped out you and Vincent with a single stroke.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I know how good your hearing is. I’m sure you know Arakiya is what they call a spirit eater. Her power depends on the spirits she consumes—and that should make your answer obvious.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “—You’re suggesting she ate a spirit strong enough to repel that assault? I doubt such a thing—” She was about to conclude exists, but then she stopped. She looked at the ground and nodded as if it made sense now. “I’ve been assuming that Vincent, knowing he would find himself surrounded, picked this place because the castle was sturdy enough to repel attackers. My entire premise was wrong, wasn’t it?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Abandoning the castle was part of our brother’s plan from the beginning. He chose this place not for its fortifications, but for the land itself.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “I assume you mean, more precisely, the spirit sleeping in the land, yes?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca didn’t deny it."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Observing her little sister’s reactions, Lamia grasped the reason she’d been led here and why her cannon barrage had failed. “The Boulder. Muspel.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca nodded. \"We are currently standing in a corner of what is reputed to be its sacred territory.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Muspel, the Boulder—this was the name of one of the four most renowned spirits in the world. The so-called Four Great Spirits were said to wander Volakia at will. If one was able to consume one of these powerful beings, it might indeed be possible to protect one’s master from Lamia’s artillery assault. “And your little puppy dog survived taking the power of one of the Four Great Spirits within her?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “She consumed only a small portion—and even that would have annihilated a lesser vessel. But victory doesn’t simply fall into one’s lap. There are always sacrifices.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " “—I suppose you did this knowing what would happen if the great spirit went berserk after it was eaten,” Lamia said. Prisca had determined that her strategy required risking the life of one of her closest confidants. Lamia understood now that the plan had involved leveraging the power of one of the great spirits. But the Boulder was a transcendent being, impossible to communicate with, let alone control or command. Perhaps Arakiya had consumed only a portion of it, but it was always possible that her own being would be consumed in turn and she would go on a rampage. “I have another question,” Lamia cooed."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"How ever did Vincent manage to trap the Boulder in this location? It seems humans aren’t the only ones our dear brother can manipulate with his plans.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"There’s no doubt that plans and manipulation are our brother’s specialty. But the means are immaterial. All that matters is that I have my results.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Yes… Yes, you’re right.\" Prisca, who had decided she wasn’t interested in a lengthy chat, held out the Bright Sword."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " Lamia drew her own sword out of the air and took up a fighting stance. Neither tried to stop the other from drawing, but it was not a sign of trust. To abide by what you knew to be a fact could not be called trust. The sisters simply knew it was what they would do. As they knew that the matter would shortly be settled by their own hands…"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " \"I’ve always hated you, Prisca, since the day we met.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Don’t worry. Of all those whose names I’ve bothered to remember, I despise you the most.\" Elder sister faced younger, their hostility and animus on full display. They would have done nothing differently, said nothing differently, even if this had been the last time they were to see each other in their lives."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Lamia:",
"value": " They each stepped forward, their swords crossing, the world enveloped in a flash of white and red and heat. Lamia saw nothing around her; she was in a world in which only she and Prisca existed, and she laughed, more certain than ever before that she should have murdered this girl when they first met at that party. The sisters hated each other to the end, reviled each other until the very conclusion of their relationship."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"Prisca and Lamia should be about done settling things by now.\" Vincent said, looking down at the half dead Arakiya. She was completely exhausted, leaned up against a large tree with her legs kicked out, limp. It wasn’t exactly surprising; she’d single-handedly repelled a magic-stone cannon barrage with the power to annihilate an entire army, and to do so, she’d taken one of the Four Great Spirits into her small body. The consequences were dire; Arakiya had done it knowing full well that it might cost her very soul. Thus, Vincent’s plan succeeded, and Arakiya had been instrumental."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"It can’t have been easy. Prisca is blessed with good help—I’ll admit that much.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"I did it…for the princess…\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"Yes, I’m sure. I don’t doubt you.\" It was rare for Vincent to praise such loyalty. Nearly everyone who served the royal family was at least as loyal as Arakiya—some even more so. That included Vincent’s personal soldiers, who had been used as bait for the enemy, never knowing that Vincent himself had made a secret agreement with Prisca."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"I suppose Chisha is going to give me a piece of his mind, though.\" Vincent muttered."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " He was looking at Chisha, who, after being skewered by Arakiya, had been right in the middle of the meeting of the cannonade with the power of one of the Four Great Spirits. He was being given heroic treatment but was badly wounded both inside and out. His odds of surviving were no better than a coin flip. He was a clever strategist, a devoted servant whom Vincent would be able to entrust with important positions in the future—and yet even he had been part of the plan, a way of selling the ploy to ensure that it would avoid detection and succeed. Nonetheless, Vincent was confident that it had been worth it. “I have much the same opinion of Lamia as she did of me and Prisca. The Rite has only just begun, but with this, I’ve eliminated my greatest rivals for the throne.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " From the perspectives of ambition and aptitude, and from the perspective of whether they had any likelihood of actually obtaining the throne, only Lamia and Prisca had been worth worrying about in Vincent’s opinion. Sadly for all the other siblings, not one of them was a match for Vincent. Although, there was one who—though still no threat for the throne—had taken Vincent by surprise in another way. “Imagine—apparently, I also misjudged my older brother Bartroi.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Bartroi Fitz, who had departed this world shortly after the beginning of the Rite of Imperial Selection, pruned away by Lamia. He’d hated the idea of brothers and sisters killing one another and had sought to keep the death wrought by the Rite to an absolute minimum with a plan that surprised even Vincent. “Declining to participate in the Rite himself, he promised the submission of several other siblings in exchange for my guarantee of their territories and persons. A bold move, if nothing else.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " If it worked, the number of heads Vincent would have had to sever in order to achieve the throne would have been ten less. And if each of them had raised personal armies in contesting the succession, the loss of life would have been that much greater. The proposal was predicated on a worldview that ran counter to Vincent’s own avowedly more correct reading of the situation—that none of his brothers or sisters could be allowed to live. Broadly speaking, there had been two keys to his escape from Lamia’s encirclement. One had been Arakiya, capable of using the great spirit to neutralize the cannonade; the other was the double cross that Lamia had never anticipated—in other words, the siblings and their armies, whom Bartroi had secretly entrusted to Vincent. True, if they succeeded, he would essentially be honoring a contract with a dead man, but Vincent didn’t have it in him to simply consider the matter null and void. Reward must be no more forgone than punishment—that was one thing Vincent always bore in mind as a member of the Volakian Royal Family."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " \"\" Arakiya, breathing shallowly, had no response to Vincent’s reminiscences."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " “You said your name was Arakiya, yes?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “? Yes… That’s right.” Arakiya looks at Vincent suspiciously."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " Vincent came and stood before her, where she looked at him like a skittish small animal—and then he winked at her. \"I’d like to make you an offer. From me—” There, Vincent stopped and gave a small shake of his head."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Vincent:",
"value": " The emotion in his dark eyes never shifting, he corrected himself: “From your emperor.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Damn you, Prisca…!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Silence, varlet. I have nothing to gain by speaking to you.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narration:",
"value": " The face of the man with long hair was a mask of rage as he pulled the Bright Sword from thin air. However, the half-circle slash of crimson was met and beaten back by a strike from above, forcing the magical blade out of the man’s hand. Disarmed, the man’s eyes shot open as he witnessed a flash, a sword stroke far more beautiful and cruel than his own. And it was the last thing he ever saw. The slash easily separated the man’s head from his body, ensuring his death. The now-disconnected head and torso simultaneously went up in flames, great red tongues of fire that reduced the corpse to ashes. These were the last moments of Paladio Manesk, son of the Volakian Royal Family."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “In the end, you were never more than ordinary. That was your limit.” Prisca’s judgment on the fate of this foolish older brother, who had holed himself up in his castle to await his destruction, was harsh."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " As she had promised, Prisca had taken his head with her own hands. The honor was presumably lost on the now-dead man, but Prisca herself didn’t give a second thought to Paladio’s predicament. All she knew was that she had removed another obstacle between her and the throne. That was the only fact worth noting. “Princess…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Arakiya? I’ve cleaned up here. How goes the rest?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “No problems. It’s over.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Sheathing the Bright Sword in thin air, Prisca turned as Arakiya emerged. She’d been around and about taking care of the soldiers who peppered Paladio’s base of operations, but nowhere on her exposed skin was there so much as a scratch."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Lamia was at least more entertaining. I never imagined I would miss that spiteful villain.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “What’s the matter, Arakiya? It’s not like you to look so serious.” Prisca made a show of seating herself on her deceased brother’s throne, then turned a questioning gaze on the silent girl."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “Oh…,” Arakiya replied finally, then blinked. After a moment, she said, “Will you soon fight? With Master Vincent?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “My brother? Yes… Yes, I suppose I will. Whether it will be soon, I can’t say, but we will eventually have to settle matters.” Prisca, realizing that Arakiya’s demeanor had to do with Vincent’s continued existence, allowed herself to relax into a smile. Vincent Abelks was her greatest opponent in the Rite of Imperial Selection, her true test. Ever since the day she’d helped him escape Lamia’s encirclement, she’d watched as his army had grown ever larger and as he eliminated their other siblings—the other claimants to the throne—one by one. Lamia had known this would happen; it was exactly why she’d sought to strike at Vincent early on, even if it meant working with the others. If those others had been smart, they would have continued to work together after the encirclement failed, when Vincent had been at least nominally on the back foot. But they had missed their chance, and Vincent had licked his wounds and taken the opportunity to recover."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “For such idiocy, they deserved no better than destruction,” Prisca said. After all, when one emerged victorious from the Rite of Imperial Selection, what awaited them was the throne of the Volakian Empire and all the responsibilities that went with it. Those siblings had shown that they would never have been able to bear the burden. Now with Lamia gone and Paladio dispatched, all that remained was…"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I must express my profound admiration.” Prisca rested her chin on her hands and turned her crimson eyes on the newcomer, who bowed with elaborate politeness."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Just for a second, Prisca closed one eye, searching her memory, but she soon recalled who the man was. Except that he didn’t quite look the way she remembered. As Prisca recalled, the last time they’d met, he’d had black hair."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Did I surprise you, milady? My apologies. My near-death experience on the occasion of our last encounter seems to have robbed me of my color.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “So I see. Strange things do happen. But I was going to refrain from asking about this appearance of yours that I briefly found so confusing. You’re Chisha Gold, are you not?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “I’m most honored that you remember me.” Chisha bowed again."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca, who had been busy playing at sword fighting with Vincent and had then turned her attention to Lamia, didn’t know the details, but from what she had heard, Chisha had had a close encounter with Arakiya that day and sustained near-mortal wounds."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “I’ve brought a little token of His Excellency’s esteem to mark this occasion. It might seem a touch precipitous, but we do hope you’ll accept it.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I only took my enemy’s head a few minutes ago, and already, my brother has managed to send a messenger into this camp. How very like him. And what is this congratulatory token?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Fine wine, if it please you.” Chisha produced a bottle of what was known to be some of the finest wine around."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Nonetheless, she said, “Arakiya, destroy it.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " At those words, the bottle in Chisha’s hand shattered, the sound ringing around the room as the wine cascaded onto the carpet."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " Chisha’s smile was almost reptilian. \"Some nobles would have sold themselves out of house and home for a bottle like that.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “I’m well aware. If we hadn’t been in the midst of the Rite of Imperial Selection, I might even have accepted it. But my brother will have known perfectly well that I would destroy any gift he might send me at this moment.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “And so he did,” Chisha said, nodding, betraying no sign that he found any of this upsetting in the slightest."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Gifts were always assumed to have some ulterior motive in the Volakian Royal Family. With assassination by poisoning being so popular, it would have been unthinkable to simply drink something another member of the family had sent without further inspection."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " The reaction had no doubt been completely expected, yet even so, Vincent’s young friend watched Prisca as calmly as if the emotion had been drained from his body along with his hair color. \"Go back and tell my brother that the most obvious obstacles are gone and that it will soon be time for he and I to settle things. We can no longer act toward each other as we once did, nor should we wish to.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"If you’ll forgive my asking, Lady Prisca, do you honestly believe you can win against my master?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"Certainly. For this world bends itself to suit me.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Chisha responded to this expression of Prisca’s philosophy with an admiring bow. Prisca looked away from him, waving a hand as if to say the conversation was over. She expected him to go back to Vincent and tell him that it was time to prepare for the final battle. However… \"And if the world turns for your benefit, how does the future look to you?\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " \"What?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca’s gaze returned to Chisha, probing, seeking the meaning of the pregnant question. Then her eyes widened—for someone was kneeling on the floor before her."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " It was Arakiya, her knees in the pool of wine; she was leaning down toward the alcohol that stained the ground. As the liquid slowly spread, she reached out with her quavering tongue and lapped at it audibly."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " \"Arakiya, what are you doing? No attendant of mine should so demean herself as to—\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Princess. I’m…sorry…\" Arakiya’s eyes were full of tears as she looked up at Prisca, who watched her in amazement. It was the first time she’d ever seen such sadness from her milk sister, and even Prisca could not help but be stopped in her tracks. Nor was it the end of her amazement, for then the strength left Arakiya’s body, and she collapsed to the floor."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Ah…hh… Hkk!\" Arakiya uttered only a few inarticulate groans. Her limbs began to spasm, her eyes rolled back in her head, and it was obvious that she was suffering in her final moments."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca had only been watching for an instant before her eyes revealed that she had begun a series of cold calculations. Now that Arakiya was on the cusp of death, countless possible choices presented themselves to Prisca’s mind, rising up and then disappearing. The average person would have taken too long to sort through them; Arakiya would have died while they were making their decision. But Prisca was not an average person. Nor was Vincent, who had foreseen what she would do. That was why this brother and sister, closer to each other than to anyone else, had no choice but to engage in a mortal contest. \"Goddamned fool.\" Prisca muttered, coming to the side of the fallen, twitching Arakiya. She sat Arakiya up in her arms and, in almost the same motion, pressed her lips to Arakiya’s mouth, then began to suck out the poisoned wine."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She spat it aside, mouthful by mouthful, as if sucking poison out of a wound."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Grr…” Prisca, too, felt the effects, but even as the poison ate away at her body, she continued to draw it out of Arakiya and spit it away."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “A most terrible pair,” Chisha remarked, observing them with true praise on his tongue."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya had stopped spasming, and although she was unconscious, the moment of greatest danger had passed."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca, who had brought her to this point, wiped her lips, and she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice as she asked Chisha, “How did my brother convince Arakiya to work with him?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Do you not know?” Chisha asked, tilting his head in some confusion even as he remained impressed with her boldness. \"I should think you, Lady Prisca, are better placed to understand His Excellency’s thinking than I am.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Hmph… And yet he gave you a starring role in his little play.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “I can only regret being unable to repay his kindness.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " Prisca stood slowly and returned to the throne. Chisha was privately astonished to see that she still walked steadily. But he was also, just as privately, relieved to see how she leaned against the backrest, betraying what a steep toll the poison had taken on her."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Lady Prisca.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Yes, what?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Had I not served His Excellency Vincent, I would have wholeheartedly served you, milady. It’s only a shame that I didn’t have the chance.” He shook his head."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " “Ha.” Prisca laughed as if she was letting out a sharp breath. Then she looked down at Arakiya, where she lay on the floor, and wore a small smile with her lips that were now the color of blood. \"I have no need for a charmless clown like you. If you wish to serve me, then at least make yourself presentable. Pretty. What a ridiculous commoner.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Prisca:",
"value": " She let out a long sigh, but to the bitter end, she wanted to be herself; she insisted on that final snipe. And then she stopped breathing. That was the end of Prisca Benedict."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " “And so the poor, sweet princess was caught in her enemy’s trap and lost her life. The princess’s elder brother claimed ultimate victory and became the nation’s emperor, and they say he still rules and prospers to this day.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " \"Wh-what a very thrilling story! And what happened after that?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " “There is no after that. I told you, did I not? The princess, the main character of the story, dies at the end. The story can’t continue.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “What?! But…but nothing says that!” The young boy’s eyebrows were raised adorably in his distress. It was a most unusual state for him."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla cocked her head. Her orange hair cascaded down her shoulders, flashing as it went. She crossed her arms in front of her ample chest. \"Come, now, Schult. Have you grown so high-and-mighty that you can critique the story I choose to tell you? What about the tale has so upset you? Tell me, if you can.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Yes, milady! The princess in that story was just too, too tragic! She worked so hard and tried her very best, but her brother tricked her, and her pet dog tricked her, too… Oh, I simply don’t know what to do!” Schult puffed out his bright-red cheeks."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla felt herself smile a little. She’d massaged a few of the details, but her story largely followed the facts. As such, Schult’s reaction was touching, given that he himself knew the “tragic princess.” However…"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"However you may discover you feel about it, the princess is already dead, and the story is over. It can’t be changed. That’s the nature of the tales that we tell.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Aww… But that’s so sad. It hurts so much.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “What are you going to do about it, then? Waste time complaining and being upset?” If that was how he planned to conduct himself, Priscilla’s evaluation of Schult would change dramatically."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " Schult crossed his stubby arms and nodded distractedly."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla didn’t rush him but waited to find out what his answer would be."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " At length, Schult unfolded his arms, looked at Priscilla, and said, “In that case… In that case, I’ll write the rest of the story myself!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “What?” She raised an eyebrow. This answer, she had never imagined."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " Schult met her response by clenching his small fist with determination. “Lady Priscilla, you said that the story was over. But I’m going to think of what happens next, so that the princess doesn’t have to meet a tragic end!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla didn’t say anything right away. “Continuing what’s finished, eh? Well, how will it go on? What future will you give to a dead princess, Schult?” Priscilla took in a small breath—and then she closed an eye pensively."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Well, uh… Well, first, the princess drank the poison, but she didn’t die from it! She went into a deep, deep sleep, and then later, she wakes up again!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Hoh. She wakes up, does she? And why is that? The poison was very deadly. Strong enough to kill a person easily.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “But the princess and her dog both took half of it! That’s why!”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Instead, she simply mussed his pink hair and smiled. “You think of the strangest things, Schult. Rewriting a finished story to suit your own druthers—haughty behavior, don’t you think? Spitting in the face of the one who gave birth to the story in the first place?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “Lady Priscilla?” he said. \"Er… Um, was I wrong to do that?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Why would you be wrong? There’s nothing wrong about taking a story you can’t accept and bending it into a shape that suits you. Nothing wrong at all. In fact, I’m impressed.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “I hope you’ll tell me the rest of the story of the poor princess. Tell me the tale that suits you.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Schult:",
"value": " “—! Y-yes, milady! Well, first, the princess didn’t die from the poison! And then someone very kind helped her…” Schult, his eyes shining now that he had Priscilla’s permission, began weaving the rest of the story."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " Priscilla rested her chin on one hand and watched the ecstatic boy go on at length, her free hand gently brushing the cover of the book."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Lady Priscilla? Are you listening?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “But of course I am. Who do you take me for?” Priscilla patted Schult’s head again and smiled."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Finally up, are you?” Someone, just a face in profile, spoke to her as her eyes fluttered open on the bed."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya found herself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling, but a quick glance to the side revealed a man in most unusual raiment, pure white from head to toe."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “You’re all white…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “It’s Chisha Gold. I wish that you would at least take the effort to remember my name. Merely my own opinion, of course.” Chisha, as he called himself, showed no change of expression despite his complaint."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya paid no heed to his objection. Arakiya felt something was wrong; she brought a hand to her left eye."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Consider it the price you paid in exchange for being left with your life. Much like how I’ve turned white as snow. But the important thing is that, indeed, both of us are alive.” When he saw Arakiya’s fingers brush her eyelid, Chisha explained calmly,"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “The princess. Where?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “You mean Lady Prisca? I’m afraid she’s quite dead.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “!” Arakiya drew a sharp breath."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya's right eye, the one remaining to her, opened wide, and she reached violently toward Chisha, seeking to wring his pale neck."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “Oops! Not now—you’re still convalescing.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " \"Calm down, sweet little puppy.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Blue-haired boy:",
"value": " “Gah!” No sooner had he spoken—almost bantering—than something hard hit her in the forehead and she felt herself go limp."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " She blinked, trying to understand what had happened. At the edge of her vision, she saw a blurry but smiling face. The figure bent over her, peering down at her where she’d collapsed—it was the blue-haired boy. The instant she realized who it was, Arakiya, who hardly ever betrayed emotion, felt as if her heart was in a million pieces. “Smiling jester…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Blue-haired boy:",
"value": " “Ha-ha-ha! I know you must be happy to see me, but there’s no need to call yourself that. After all, there’s not a person alive who can help grinning when they see my face!\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " With her remaining eye, Arakiya glared at the boy who’d jabbed her in the forehead, revealing a very obvious desire to kill him."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " Chisha shook his head slowly. “Allow me to apologize for his blathering. And also for my all-too-easily misunderstood answer to you. I reiterate that Lady Prisca is dead. However, your princess remains with us in this world.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “But…that…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “His Excellency will be true to his word. You became the poison that felled Lady Prisca, and for that reason, he will not perjure himself. However…”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " “I can’t ever…see the princess…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “That’s correct,” Chisha said softly and nodded."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Arakiya all but ignored him; she pressed a hand to her left eye and held her breath. Vincent will keep his word. If what Chisha had said was true, then Prisca was dead but had survived. The Rite of Imperial Selection had ended for her with Arakiya’s betrayal. “Princess…” Arakiya called to mind the beautiful face she had spent so long studying. Did she hate Arakiya now? Did she hate Arakiya, who had given in to Vincent’s plan and become poison to her? Arakiya, who had been unable to have faith in Prisca’s ultimate triumph and had instead acted on her own initiative to save her princess from death? It was not that Arakiya had been enraptured by the magic of Vincent’s words. If Prisca truly could not hope to best Vincent, then it was not because of a matter of strength or wits. It was a matter of the heart. Prisca was so deeply compassionate, so kind. That was why she couldn’t hope to defeat the cold and cruel Vincent. “Oh… Ohh…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Blue-haired boy:",
"value": " “Oh my, she’s started to cry. Chisha, what do we do with the puppy? His Excellency says she’s a stray now.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Chisha:",
"value": " “I’m told her course of action is to be left to her discretion. Anyway, what about you? The brutality with which you annihilated the Pruning Force is getting around.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Arakiya:",
"value": " Chisha and the boy chatted by Arakiya’s feet; Arakiya herself covered her face with her hands and wailed. She completely ignored the other two; instead, she cried, and as she cried, she prayed. Though she was a spirit eater, a barbarian with nothing to pray to, she cried out to Heaven."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"—bends itself to suit me.\" The girl murmured, holding down her orange hair as the wind tried to pick it up and flutter it behind her. She stood in a grassy field, studying a grave site built in the shadow of some trees. The marker bore the name Prisca Benedict. She gazed at it, her crimson eyes creasing into a smile."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Old Woman:",
"value": " \"Princess, you’ll catch your death if you stand out here in the wind.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Old Woman:",
"value": " It was an old woman, dressed in noble garments. Several servants stood behind her. \"Princess,\" the old woman repeated, \"please listen to me…\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"Enough with your ‘princess.’ It’s foolishness. Prisca Benedict is dead and in the ground. And that being so, it cannot be right to call me princess. I’m supposed to be your precious granddaughter.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Old Woman:",
"value": " The old woman bowed her head."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"Hmph,\" she said and looked back at the grave. \"She looked so much like me… To think that she would serve me twice.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"A valuable thing,\" was all the young woman said, and then she opened the scarlet folding fan in her hand with a crack. She turned toward the old woman and the servants waiting behind her."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Old Woman:",
"value": " \"Princess…\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Girl:",
"value": " \"How many times must I tell you not to call me that? The princess who bore that title died pathetically.\""
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " \"Tragically, perhaps, but it was only what she deserved for her inability to leaven the anxieties of her followers. The one before you now is… Hmph. What was it again?” The girl tilted her head in curiosity."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Old woman:",
"value": " The old woman closed her eyes, and after a beat, she answered. “Priscilla.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “Yes, that’s it.” The girl nodded slowly and closed the fan with a snap. Her older sister always used to tuck it away amid her cleavage—and the girl couldn’t do that, but perhaps in the near future, she might become able to. For she was alive. And as long as one was alive, there was a future. In which case…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Priscilla:",
"value": " “That means we can continue. After all…” She looked up at the sky. Hovering in the almost disgustingly blue heavens, the sun burned so bright, it nearly seemed scarlet. She reached out a hand as if to grasp it, and she could still feel the warmth of the Bright Sword against her palm. Comforted by the heat, the girl—Priscilla—smiled and said: “…the world bends itself to suit me.”"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " Everyone finds a death match entertaining when it isn’t their life on the line. That might sound like an extreme statement, but from where he was standing, it had a distinct ring of truth. It wasn’t something to be laughed off as a silly exaggeration. He heard wild cheering from overhead as he rolled back across the hard ground. The cheering turned to jeering at his cack-handed escape, but he didn’t give a shit."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Man:",
"value": " \"After all, I’m the one risking my goddamn life here!\" he spat—along with some phlegm—before he brought the huge sword in his right hand up in front of him."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " It was enough to check his opponent, who had been about to follow up with a bare-handed blow. The pale, bald man coming at him adopted a lazy posture, both arms dangling as he sneered. The bald man held no weapons, an unusual choice around these parts. But in one sense, something much worse than any sword or spear resided in the man’s swaying arms. There was a technique called the Poison Hand. A means of murder that involved soaking one’s hand in poison, storing it up until just before the point of death. Eventually, the impregnated toxin gathered in the fingernails, meaning the slightest scratch could kill an enemy. The bald man’s purplish-red fingers and nails were the evidence that he possessed this technique."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Man:",
"value": " \"Looks like we’ve got a shinobi who screwed up some important murder.\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " The hands, and the man’s unflinching readiness to kill, were enough to guess at his background. Shinobi were killers who had undergone the most rigorous possible training and submitted to unimaginable augmentation of their bodies. Some people doubted they really existed—said they were just an urban legend—but if so, they were an urban legend worth believing in. They were hired by the great and powerful as elite troops in the game of kill-or-be-killed that such people lived in. No telling how this one had ended up here, but now he was trapped, just like the rest of them. For this was…"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Narrator:",
"value": " A disgusting little hole called Ginonhive, the sword-slave island, where its captives are forced to fight each other. The sword slaves were literally enslaved—and this was the status of the two men fighting at the moment. The words represented the lowest of the low; every day, much of their blood was spilled, many of their bones broken, and many of their lives lost. And this, the so-called sword-slave island, where these fights to the death passed for entertainment, was the perfect place for the awful crowds of imperial subjects to slake their bloodlust. It was the kind of place one would naturally expect to find in a land as thoroughly brutal as the Volakian Empire."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Man:",
"value": " \"Not that it makes it any better to have them pulling our strings!\" the man growled, standing slowly, the heavy sword in one hand."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " The weight of the weapon meant it didn’t lend itself to being swung around one-handed for very long—but sadly, the man had no choice save to rely on his right hand to do the fighting. For his left, which might otherwise have helped it, was gone. He sighs."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " His long, wild hair was tied back behind his head, so that he could glare at his opponent with eyes that some called evil. It was all he could do to keep the enemy at bay. It wasn’t as if the arm was a recent loss. It had happened in the distant past, and he’d long since adapted to how it impacted his balance. Even so, when he fought opponents whom he had to be careful around, like this one, it still sometimes felt like a heavy burden to him. “Which means I can’t be draggin’ this out.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " “How about it, Mr. Might-Be-a-Shinobi? What say we work together to forfeit this game?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Poison Hand:",
"value": " “Forfeit…?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " “Hoh, interested, are ya?” Sensing his chance, the one-armed man plowed ahead. “It’s easy: I keep runnin’ from you, and you keep attacking me, but you don’t hit me. That goes on for a while, the spectators and the owner are gonna start getting restless. Chances are, they’ve got a demon beast or something on hand that they’ll send in to get things going. And then we don’t have to fight each other, just the creature.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Poison Hand:",
"value": " “And if we defeat it together, we survive today—is that what you’re saying?”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " “Yeah, that’s the idea! Aw, it’s great to find a guy I can talk to for onc— Hgggh? !” Just as the one-armed man was grinning and thinking what an easy conversation this was turning out to be, Poison Hand lashed out with his sharp nails. The one-armed man just managed to dodge, rolling backward to gain himself some distance from his foe."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Poison Hand:",
"value": " The bald man sneered at him. “Don’t be stupid. Work with you to fight a demon beast? And maybe getting myself killed in the process? Anyone with a choice between a one-armed man and a demon beast would pick the cripple. I’m no different.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " “Hey, look, I know how you feel, all right? But as a fellow human being…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Poison Hand:",
"value": " “Besides, this is my chance to show off the skills I’ve honed. And I can’t stand when someone stops me from having my fun.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " “Oh! Sorry. I didn’t realize you were one of those natural-born killers. Guess we just look at things too differently to see eye to eye, then.” He would have liked to scratch his head with sheer embarrassment, but the moment he lowered his arm, his only guard, a finishing blow would have come his way. He settled for a sigh—and then his opponent’s Poison Hand twitched. He felt it coming—or rather, he knew it was coming."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " \"—!\" With a sharp breath, the one-armed man dodged his attacker’s right hook, but even as he saw the left arm move at the edge of his vision, he was bringing his sword up to meet the man’s spinning leg. The blade bit into the leg just at the knee, severing it and spraying dark blood everywhere. A few drops spattered on the one-armed man, who had to hope that at least his enemy’s blood wasn’t toxic."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " \"Just bad luck…or should I say, a bad star.\" Then the loser’s head went arcing high up through the air, still wearing an expression of disbelief."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " \"Another close shave today, huh?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " \"Hey, I’d love some easier wins. But these old bones have seen more than thirty years, and with just one arm, these clumsy little victories are the best I can manage.\" The one-armed man retreated from the arena, which was still echoing with cheers, through a passageway reserved for the sword slaves."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " Orlan was stationed around the colosseum. \"Here ya go.\" The one-armed man said, tossing his blood-soaked weapon to Orlan."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " \"Okay, cuffs are on.\" Then he added, \"You know, I’m glad you survived today. Maybe it’s not my place to mention, but there were some ugly rumors about that guy you were fighting. He grabbed a couple of guards by the arm, and they both died. Everyone claimed it was an accident, but…\""
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "One-armed man:",
"value": " \"But a Poison Hand user having an ‘accident’ is pretty much like saying he cut off their heads with his own weapon, isn’t it?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " \"You said it. But we don’t get many of his kind through here."
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " \"Gah, guards’ lives are as cheap as sword slaves’ here. Don’t tell anyone I said any of that, hey?” Orlan smiled thinly; he really wasn’t cut out for guard work. Or maybe it wasn’t guard work that didn’t suit him—maybe it was Ginonhive. Maybe the whole Volakian Empire. The empire prized tangible virtues: unshakable conviction and the willingness to put one’s life on the line in a fight. Bleeding hearts and bountiful compassion earned no respect here. It could be hard to live with people who possessed such a rigid view of the world. But that was the Holy Volakian Empire."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " “Well, still gotta be better than being a sword slave like me!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Al:",
"value": " “That’s not funny… Oh, hey, I’m not trying to say the only reason I’m glad you won is because the other guy was a jerk. It’s also because you’re pretty decent yourself.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " “Hey, watch it. You get too mushy, you’re gonna end up going down my route!”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "Al:",
"value": " “What do you mean, ‘route’?”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Orlan:",
"value": " “Ah, never mind. Let’s just get out of here.” The one-armed man smacked Orlan, still confused by the unfamiliar vocabulary, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he tried to get them moving. For one thing, he wasn’t that interested in standing around shooting the breeze, but for another, this passageway led to the arena. Which meant that eventually, the fighters for the next match would be coming through it…"
}
] |
[
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "???:",
"value": " “Ohhh my. I was just wondering who could be flitting about here—if it isn’t my sweet little Al.”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Al:",
"value": " “Ugh…” This was exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid—a run-in with the next competitor. Al felt his mouth twist into a scowl."
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "???:",
"value": " “Oh my, oh my, oh my,” the new fighter said when she saw it, her voice tinkling like a bell. She came up to him looking like she was having a grand old time, her long, tall body swaying as she walked. “‘Ugh,’ he says! How positively mean! And here I thought we were friends…”"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"prefix": "Al:",
"value": " “Gimme a break. I’d have no end of trouble on my hands if I went around claiming I was friends with you. The best thing you could call us is acquaintances who occasionally stand and chat.”"
},
{
"from": "human",
"prefix": "???:",
"value": " “Hee-hee-hee! You do say the funniest things, my sweet.” The woman with the rather beautiful smile and laugh was tall, with close-cropped dark hair. Indeed, she was uncommonly tall for this world at over six feet. She was blessed with a perfect figure, curves right where a woman would want them, and she displayed them proudly with an outfit that showed plenty of skin. Combined with her angular face, it all made her look like a sculpture escaped from an art museum. But there was something about her that was far more memorable than even her striking appearance: her arms. So far from being as long as her tall body would suggest, neither of them extended below the elbow."
}
] |
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