"Your name, what's your name!" Karasaki exclaimed, all while she was casually trading clashes with her sword using barely the same effort akin to putting up clothes. "Mine's Karasaki!"
It was crude, but Karasaki attempted to perform something similar to the language conversion spell that her Patriarch developed to converse with the nezuras. And who would expect that it worked quite well on her first try.
"Interesting, so this kind of magic also exists as well." The water seamstress stopped her relentless momentum, swaying ragdolled head like a doll, all while she was still wearing her eerie wide-awake gaze and shark-like manic grin. "Mine's Juujou Kaleste, the Archon of Streams, the one and only debilitating, cross-mangler of southern hearth beneath the crossing of cloudless sea. Have you heard of it, lass? Of course you haven't heard of it, our world barely intersects!"