human
Wilhelm:  Wordlessly, Wilhelm watched the fist float over his head. When it came down, it would crush his body and turn him into nothing more than a bloody lump of flesh. Death itself was before him. Death, which he had visited on so many others. He had no sword. He hadn’t even found the reason he clung to his blade. And now he was going to—
gpt
Libre:  "Meet your end, Sword Devil. Perhaps Libre and I will see you in hell!” The fist came down. The end of Wilhelm’s life came barreling toward him.
human
Roswaal:  “Grimm! Now! !”
gpt
Grimm:  “—rrrr!” In that final instant, he heard the voice of a woman, and of a man whose voice was hardly a whisper. The impact shook the entire chapel.
human
Grimm:  Grimm threw himself between Roswaal and the beam of light an instant before it annihilated her.
gpt
Grimm:  “—” He hadn’t been sure he would win or even survive. Until now, neither victory nor survival had influenced Grimm’s life as bad luck had, so what came of his blocking the light with his shield was also a gift of his “bad luck.”
human
Witch:  “With a mere shield…” This was not like stopping any normal attack. This was the light that had decimated the castle’s great hall and all but evaporated the royal guards who now lay dead in the corridor. It could pierce armor; it should certainly have been able to do the same to a shield.
gpt
Carol:  “Grimm!” Carol shouted as the attack hit home. She could be cool, but deep down she was kind and pure. Her fragile heart was surrounded by a shell like glass. So although she could appear hard, she was in fact quite delicate. She wanted to support Grimm—even if he, who had relied on her help so much lately, might have thought that was ridiculous. Even so, in the days before this battle, her thoughtfulness had been his salvation.
human
Grimm:  “—” Grimm felt the grip of his shield heating up under the beam’s assault. It burned as though he had put his hand to a hot soup pot, but he refused to let go. He couldn’t use a sword. He had no voice. He would not relinquish his shield.
gpt
Witch:  “My Al Ziwald. He—?” Across from Grimm, the witch could hardly speak for amazement. Grimm’s shield was catching the beam from her hand, reflecting the all-consuming heat up to the ceiling of the great hall. The heat was the only thing that affected the shield; there was no further damage to it. The shelter had saved Grimm and Roswaal. On the back of the shield was the crest of the House of Remendes, Carol’s family. It was an heirloom Carol had given to Grimm to celebrate his survival. And in doing so, she saved his life.
human
Grimm:  “—rrr!” The heat burned his hand, and the pain forced a scratchy sound out of his throat. Deflected by Grimm’s defense, the beam destroyed the ceiling and brought down the floor of the room above the great hall.