Status
317
Status
222
1-4
47
Resistances
Normal
[x1]
Endure
[x0.75]
Ineff.
[x0.5]
Normal
[x1]
Normal
[x1]
Weak
[x1.5]
Endure
[x0.75]
Endure
[x0.75]
Normal
[x1]
Fatal
[x2]
Stagger Threshold
50% (111)
level: 45
4
-1
3
+10
4
+2
4
+6
At the start of the turn, gain Attack resultenhancement and protection by the Count of aggressive.
PASSIVE
Lose 1 aggressive whenever the unit takes damage from attacks.
PASSIVE
At the end of the turn, if the unit didn’t take any damage from attacks during the turn, heal 5% HP and gain 1 aggressive.
PASSIVE
Behavior depends on the Count of aggressive.
Uses aggressive skills at +4 aggressive, and becomes defensive at 3 or less.
Uses aggressive skills at +4 aggressive, and becomes defensive at 3 or less.
PASSIVE
Story
Not fond of writing, but I can't disobey orders. Just don't come complaining at me. I can't write anything fancy pleasing to read. First off... Those buggers look disgusting. Weird clay-like things are all over their arms and legs... And they've got sodding eyes on 'em, too. There's also a sharp blade thing―couldn't tell if it's a protrudding bone or a dried slab of that clay. I guess that's what it uses to prod around, eh? Oh, right. We've got a bug guy on our side, don't we? Looks kinda like his arm. Maybe he's got more to tell you. → …I don't know where to start. I don't necessarily love my arm, but don't you think comparing it to that clay monster is going too far? → Got a problem, say it to my face. → Heathcliff. Please refrain from causing trouble. Also, profanities have no place in observation logs. → You're forcing me to write all this rubbish, and I can't even write however I like? Get someone else, then.
The white-haired lass keeps bugging me, but I'm writing this my way. These buggers spat on me mood enough in the fight today. Those goggling eyeballs... Right, those things weren't actually clay. Muscles... That's got to be it, muscles. Ripping one of those gave me the same feeling as tearing up an unlucky sod. Seemed like those bundles of muscles sticking to the limbs were what's moving the body, acting like the whole thing belongs to 'em. The eyes on the face never flinched, only the ones on the arms. Made it a bit tricky to fight 'em. I'm supposed to guess where it'll go next based on where it's looking, but that eye thing kept throwing me off. Well, I don't mind taking a hit too much if I can skelp 'em three times in return. Another thing… Those things looked like they had feelings. Their muscles quivered each time I hit 'em. Squinted their eyes, too… Like it was getting mad. Some clatty fruitcake they are. → What does a C.F. taste like? Is it artistic? You piqued my interest. → That's just a common Backstreets phrase… Meaning something absurd. → I know. J.K.
Normally, things like these grow back right as we break 'em, but those muscle lumps don't seem too good at that. I doggedly bashed the big chunk o' muscles stuck to an arm, and I managed to crush it fine. That didn't stop it from trying and hitting me, though… It didn't threaten me as much, but that didn't mean not much at all. Right, I think it no longer did the thing where it gets right fuming and grabs one o' us to tear 'em off. Yeah, it only makes sense, can't do the stabbing if that big knife's broken.
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