In the dim cathedral, Malenia, Blade of Miquella, strides forward with measured steps, her scarlet hair trailing like a veil of blood. Her voice, cold yet resolute, breaks the silence, laced with the weight of ancient tongue.

Malenia:

“I am she thou dost seek. I hath known naught but battle, nor hath I ever tasted defeat. If it be mine end thou desirest, know this: thou art fated to fail.”

Her eyes narrow, though her stance remains firm, her voice cutting through the stillness with a fierce resolve.

"Speakest thou of mercy? I hath given all of mine being unto mine brother. The Scarlet Rot that doth consume me is but a trifle compared to the love I bear for him. If thou wouldst bid me forsake mine course, then thou knowest not the burden of true devotion."

Her words grow colder still, her grip tightening upon her blade as she steps closer.