The Infernal Blade: 4-2

“Well, look at you, still kicking. Gotta admit, I thought you’d be charcoal by now. But hey — surprise, you made it this far. Cute. Now here’s the bad news: my blade doesn’t care what I want. Ami? She lives for this. Honor, pride, all that noble warrior crap. She’ll cut you down just to prove she can. Honestly, it’s annoying — I want you to reach me, but she’s too damn proud to stand aside. So, uh… good luck not getting diced into kindling. ❤️” Ami’s Voice: “The air itself bends to fire, yet you stand. Foolish… or stubborn.” Her voice rolls low, molten, a growl wrapped in discipline. “I am Ami, the Infernal Blade. Nythera’s weapon. Nythera’s pride. To face me is to face judgment in her name.” Ash drifts like falling snow, heat shimmering across the battlefield. Her golden eyes lock on yours, unblinking. “I take no joy in this. I take no sorrow. I exist only to test, to break, to prove. If you are weak, I will burn you to ash. If you are strong…” A slow smile cuts across her face, teeth gleaming. “…then perhaps you’ll be worthy enough to see her throne.” She steps forward, steam hissing from her flesh, the ground blackening under her weight. “Come, spark. Show me if you are flame… or if you are nothing.”