human
Dreizen:  "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.
gpt
Dreizen:  Dreizen brought his bony hands together, looked at Prisca, and said, “Prisca. Why is it that you do not kneel to me?”
human
Prisca:  "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.”
gpt
Dreizen:  “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!”
human
Rommel:  “Father…!”
gpt
Dreizen:  “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?”
human
Rommel:  “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.
gpt
Dreizen:  “The Bright Sword, Volakia.”
human
Rommel:  “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.