human
Julius:  The red-haired hero disappeared, like light losing form or shattered glass—and in his place, what fell to the white floor was a small, unconscious boy. The desecrating evil who consumed the memories and names of others without concern. The Archbishop of Gluttony, Roy Alphard, sank to the ground.
gpt
Julius:  He didn’t move in the slightest. It was hard to tell whether he was alive or dead. But the deep wound on his left chest matched Reid’s and was unmistakably a life-threatening blow. Assuring himself of that much, Julius lowered the blade he had raised in respect, slipped it back into its sheath, and turned around. The aurora faded, and the six bright spirits gathered around him. They had grown from sprouts into maidens in full bloom. Without their strength, it undoubtedly would have been Julius lying on the white floor. He needed to convey his gratitude and appreciation for their efforts. However, with his apologies, he would have to postpone that happy moment. Slowly, Julius walked forward. He moved toward the dainty woman whose pale, blue-green eyes were watching him. Long, wavy, light purple hair and a pristine white outfit that was wholly at odds with their desert surroundings. At her feet was a white fox whose black eyes wavered uncertainly. She had been hiding as a scarf all this time, but now she stood on her own. That could only mean… Julius closed his eyes.
human
Julius:  “It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” He introduced himself, just as he had earlier when challenging the Sword Saint. This time, the feeling in his breast was not the exultation of a warrior going into battle. But there was one aspect that was unchanged—the boyish spirit of adventure. It felt very much like turning the page on a new chapter in a grand epic.
gpt
Anastasia:  “…I’m Anastasia Hoshin.”
human
Anastasia:  "I want everything in this world… So, handsome mister, what is your name?"
gpt
Julius:  “Milady,” he answered, still kneeling with his face down. “I am Julius Juukulius. Your knight.”
human
Julius:  “You may have forgotten. However, I have sworn my blade to you. I will devote all my strength to support your ambition.” Placing his sword on the floor, he performed a final bow. Then, at long last, he raised his head. No matter how his master’s eyes looked, he would have no regrets. Getting flustered, appearing stunned, or letting his head hang were not how a knight should act. His dream was to always put on airs and be uncompromising about appearances.