{@nickname}, compared to the old ones, today's battle are too relaxed and juvenile . They are weak. Weak enough to make weapons rust. And once a warrior's weapons rust, death soon follows.

Life is but a brief flicker before the vast maw of annihilation. Cherish that view of the sunset while you still can, {@nickname}.

Practical exercises? Nah, I'm not interested. While Rhodes Island boasts many powerful warriors, squandering one's physical strength on a game is wasteful. Only on the edge of life and death does the clashing of swords have value.

I'm not concerned with the plight of the Infected? Hmph, don't misunderstand me - fighting in vain is what I hate. No enemy worth spilling my blood has come forward, and that's all there is to it.

Rampant slaughter liberates your inner instinct, 'teamwork' only robs you of it. What 'trust' and 'strategizing' buy you are nothing but illusions of security. And these illusions, {@nickname}, will one day cost you your life.

This blade ran through two crown princes, and this other one slew three generals. In our chaotic world, anything can happen. I don't know who will claim my life, but on that day, I sure hope it'll be more exciting than when I took these lives.

Shining, huh? A pity, she could have been a worthy adversary. But after she got pulled into that mess with the 'Confessarii,' I bet she felt her blade had been besmirched. Hmph, Swordsmen without faith in their swords are beneath mention.

{@nickname}, you remember that battle, right? After killing all the ambushers, I led the survivors and charged straight into the traitor's fortress. I was the only one who made it out alive. How did it all start? Oh, you know the answer to that. I've seen you before, and my memory is very good.

{@nickname}, help me fetch those seeds in the cupboard, won't you? Thank you. Yes, I'm actually quite fond of flowers. No matter how brilliantly they blossom, their petals must wither and fall into the wind. When will the petals wither next, Doctor?

Vigilance can keep you alive, {@nickname}.

We meet again, {@nickname}. Don't worry, I understand the situation you're in now, and pose no threat to you. I shall be your blade, so use me as you see fit, Doctor.

The skills a great warrior needs are those which defy recording.

Promotion? What? So you actually care about these rituals now?

I have no concept of what it's like to be Infected. Perhaps Rhodes Island can help me understand. I don't care, but if you have your own considerations. Fine, I'll hear them out.

Ahh, I've longed for a hurricane of blood.

I've been a captain before, and it didn't end well.

I will bathe in their blood.

Let's begin.

Do not interfere.

Mind your own business.

So, who shall be my opponent?

Will it be you? Or maybe you?

The blade brings the flame.

The bone falls with blood.

Whose name will you cry as you pass?

I don't give a damn.

Did this battle satisfy you?

A weak enemy proves nothing. Search for a worthier battlefield.

A dedicated opponent will prove to be a worthy adversary in the future, let them do just that.

The rest of you, go. It has always been my job to destroy the pursuing enemy.

It's pretty quiet here.

Yeah?

You're just in time, I find myself in need of a whetstone…

Arknights.

Time never ceases to pass. If you make no progress at this stage in your journey, then as a wizened tree does, your hours will rot away, and lose any ability to meet the coming spring. Happy New Year, {@nickname}, and don't forget your own goals.

Not bad, you're still alive.

I think of what reasons brought me to Rhodes Island, Doctor, and there is only you. I allow you to use me as your blade, but in kind, you provide me amusing prey and durable whetstones. But don't disappoint me. For if you do, I cannot guarantee that someday this blade will not point at you.