human
Steelfolk:  In response, a Steelfolk, their body resembling an amalgam of metal and ore, looked up at the emperor.
gpt
Vincent:  Vincent nodded. Then he turned his gaze to the ceiling of the great room—no, to the entire Crystal Palace. "I grant there were some surprises along the way, but I believe you had the chance to trade blows with the Sword Saint. How many do you think you could take?"
human
Steelfolk:  “Two hits. Maybe. Three.” The voice could be heard all over the room, almost as though the Crystal Palace itself were pronouncing the answer. No one present reacted to the sound’s apparent point of origin, though. That did not mean they weren’t surprised—only that it was not the voice that surprised them, but rather, what it had said.
gpt
Vincent:  “Three hits…? That’s some bullshit. What kinda weapon’s that guy usin’?”
human
Groovy:  “We knew he would be beyond anything we had ever faced. That’s exactly why we were able to prepare our trump card. But even so…”
gpt
Goz:  "I think, dangerous. That man, a threat. Eliminate. Priority should be—eliminate.”
human
Mogro:  One general was impressed, another hesitant, and still another concerned. The voices belonged to Groovy, Goz, and Mogro, respectively. In each of their minds stood the obvious, indisputable, and deadly facts about Reinhard van Astrea. Each saw the question of how to deal with the Sword Saint as the most important issue facing them.
gpt
Chisha Gold:  “Good heavens, I simply have to wonder if he’s really as bad as all that.” This objection came from none of the three who had just spoken their minds. Its source was a man dressed in white from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It was a shade of alabaster so pale, it looked as if all other color had simply drained away. He was the only one present who had not encountered the delegation from Lugunica face-to-face. No—that was not quite right. He had encountered them—just not with this current face.
human
Goz:  “Exactly what do you mean, Chisha Gold? Are you trying to imply that all of us together could misjudge the threat an enemy poses? If so, then the blame lies partly with you, as well.”
gpt
Chisha Gold:  “Perish the thought. However, as to whether it would be right for me to accept any blame…”
human
Goz:  “Don’t play dumb. To act as His Majesty’s body double in times of peace, only to refuse when it’s most necessary of all—your insolence is unbelievable… Imagine if something had happened to the sovereign!”
gpt
Chisha Gold:  “Such a thing is beyond imagining. Unless you are professing a lack of faith in His Majesty’s discernment and wisdom.” The man in white—Chisha Gold—ended up locking eyes with the increasingly irate Goz. For sheer size, there was no comparison, but they were almost the same in height. Now as they both knelt, they could conduct this staring contest from only inches apart.
human
Vincent:  “Enough. You sound like two dogs at a bone."