gpt
Prisca:  “Damn you, Prisca…!”
human
Prisca:  “Silence, varlet. I have nothing to gain by speaking to you.”
gpt
Narration:  The face of the man with long hair was a mask of rage as he pulled the Bright Sword from thin air. However, the half-circle slash of crimson was met and beaten back by a strike from above, forcing the magical blade out of the man’s hand. Disarmed, the man’s eyes shot open as he witnessed a flash, a sword stroke far more beautiful and cruel than his own. And it was the last thing he ever saw. The slash easily separated the man’s head from his body, ensuring his death. The now-disconnected head and torso simultaneously went up in flames, great red tongues of fire that reduced the corpse to ashes. These were the last moments of Paladio Manesk, son of the Volakian Royal Family.
human
Prisca:  “In the end, you were never more than ordinary. That was your limit.” Prisca’s judgment on the fate of this foolish older brother, who had holed himself up in his castle to await his destruction, was harsh.