human
Reinhard:  "Sorry, but I can’t let you hurt my friend.” At almost the same instant, Reinhard was covering Julius’s back, catching the blows from both hatchets. One of the Sword Saint’s strikes caught Groovy in the wrist, while he stomped his long legs firmly into the earth in a powerful stance.
gpt
Groovy:  “Tsk! Screw you! Your friend? That’s the same thing I called Balleroy, goddamnit!”
human
Reinhard:  Reinhard pursed his lips as Groovy berated him in compensation for the forestalled physical assault. The hyena-man’s rage prevented the Sword Saint from having any opportunity to explain the truth.
gpt
Julius:  Julius unleashed a blow that connected with Mogro’s sturdy arm. The attack landed precisely on the wrist of their right hand—the one still clutching Ferris. But with a sharp sound of impact, his sword simply bounced off. Steelfolk bodies were every bit as hard as they looked. One would probably need a metal cutter to do any harm to Mogro. “Hrgh…”
human
Ferris:  “Eeeeek? !”
gpt
Julius:  First the clash with Groovy and now his attack on Mogro. Julius’s right arm was still tingling from the two impacts as he drew his sword back—at which point, Mogro’s huge form danced about curiously before launching a powerful front kick. A geyser of earth shot forth as though the ground had exploded, and Ferris’s scream faded away as he was swung around. Hearing it, Julius didn’t fall backward but lunged at Mogro’s center to avoid the attack, slamming his sword into the inner thigh and the back of the creature’s hips—places that would be crippling blows on a human opponent. But all he got for his trouble was another shock and a difficult-to-control rebound. The purple-haired knight moved in as close as he dared in order to get at the inside of Mogro’s legs, and the sword dance between him and the metallic warrior began to appear like a whirlwind. “…!” Julius slammed into his opponent’s vital points one by one, dodging Mogro’s blows with some difficulty as he displayed his swordsmanship. Julius didn’t know much about the Steelfolk, but their overwhelming menace and their strength, which could obviously take his life with even a glancing blow, froze the blood in his veins. He took no pride in going toe to toe with one of the empire’s strongest fighters. He had no chance to revel in his own swordsmanship or admire the power of his enemy. He was spending this moment at his absolute limit…
human
Mogro:  "You, strong. Me, surprised.” Unlike Julius, who needed every ounce of his concentration and skill just to stay on even footing, Mogro still had the wherewithal to offer a word of praise. Truth be told, the Steelfolk’s fighting style suggested nothing of training or discipline. The general simply swung and struck in a manner that came naturally, as if trying to squash a small animal. Mogro had risen to be one of the Nine Divine Generals simply by virtue of an immense innate strength.