human
Roswaal:  The incandescent red sphere should have scorched the man to ash, searing him out of the world altogether. Yet, it had failed to singe even a single strand of the man’s hair, turning into a tiny red clump that tumbled onto the ground.
gpt
Hector:  "I’m rather surprised that you haven’t vanished yet. Having to use my power is so depressing, I just want to die." When the grumbling man clenched his upraised hand, the gesture caused the sphere that had fallen to the ground to burst apart. The sound of scalding heat scorching the air echoed but once—then it dissipated, its mana completely exhausted.
human
Roswaal:  Roswaal, on death’s door, had cast with the whole of his body and spirit, hoping for a miraculous turnaround. He’d wrung his dying breaths, and all he’d accomplished was making the strange man break a sweat. The only matter that remained was whose death—Roswaal’s or Ryuzu’s—would precede the other’s by a few scant seconds.
gpt
Roswaal:  "Damn you, Devil of Melancholy—!"
human
Hector:  "What a terrible nickname. It dampens my spirits. Do you think I ended up this way by choice, hmm?"
gpt
Roswaal:  "Even if your life has been twisted or corrupted somehow…you became your current self through the choices you made, no matter how limited they were. Don’t try to pass yourself off as a victim…Devil of Melancholy, Hector!"
human
Hector:  "A sound argument. My ears hurt. It makes me feel bad. Hmm. Truly, I do not get along well with you. That’s why—" Cutting off his own words, the man—Hector—turned his palm toward Roswaal.
gpt
Roswaal:  "—Rgh, ghh!"
human
Hector:  "Your bones are clattering. Your internal organs are squishing. Your heart’s cracking. What are you gonna do now, hmm?" The instant Hector spoke in a low voice, an anguished cry resounded. It was the cry of Roswaal’s impending death. This time, Roswaal truly ceased to move. Hector paid him but a glance before languidly turning back around. He looked toward the cabin Ryuzu was in—and without warning, it was crushed under the strain.