Karel and Valter
C Support
Valter: Kekeke!
Karel: You there. Mad dog!
Valter: What?! Yaa!
Karel: Haah! You must be faster than that to hurt me, cur.
Valter: Heeeh… I wasn't aiming to harm… A meal must be fattened up and cooked in succulent juices before even being considered food…
Karel: Haaa! I am food to you? You are food to my blade, and thus, me! Die!
Valter: Urk! Heh… You feed your blade? How pointless. Why not revel in your hunt for yourself?
Karel: My path isn't one of pleasure! Now, yield!
Valter: Ghaaa! Never. As much fun as this smashing of utensils has been, I must take my leave… I will find you again. And you will taste delectable!
Karel: Not unless I find you first and whet my thirsty blade!
B Support
Valter: Found you! Kehehe!
Karel: A sneak attack?! You can't fight worth a damn, so you must resort to dirty tactics, is that it?
Valter: My lust doesn't care for my tactics, so long as I sate it. Now come, I hunger!
Karel: You are as mad as a cut snake! Yes, this is what my blade yearned for! Grrraaa!
Valter: Hiyaaa! Before I take enact my pleasure on you, I must ask what you were doing, skulking out here?
Karel: Finding strong fighters for my blade to drink from. Huurrrr!
Valter: You seek greater sized prey as well, eh? I can see why you chose to attack me then! Heh, heh, hehhh!
Karel: You were not a worthy adversary when I first heard of you. You were merely an obstacle, in my way! Kyaaa!
Valter: So I am no longer an obstacle, but a challenge? You interest me, Demon Sword… Halt! I propose a bargain.
Karel: A bargain? You are in no state to reason with me, seaweed man…
Valter: Halt your vile tongue, and listen! I propose that we work together. I wish to feast on fat, blood-filled food, while you wish to feed your blade. As such, why don't we work together, and find each other prey?
Karel: …You are smarter than your appearance informs me…
Valter: You can stop insulting me now, we are not fighting…
A Support
Valter: Demon Sword.
Karel: Dark Moonstone.
Valter: So…
Karel: Yes…
Valter: Damn that Tazio!
Karel: And this infernal place… What kind of hell has its soldiers return from death?!
Valter: I am… I feel… Ill… My mouth is… Dry…
Karel: My blade arm is limp… The sword doesn't call to me…
Valter: *Sigh*
Karel: *Sigh*
Valter: Shall we resume?
Karel: Of course! Die, wretched vagrant!