This lowly self of mine is yet to deserve the name of a Star. Until such a time arrives that I might inherit the title, I shall continue to be of service to my master and hone myself without end.
| HP | 66.0 + (2.28*lvl) |
| DEF |
| Trigger | Dialogue |
|---|---|
| Identity Acquisition | This lowly self of mine is yet to deserve the name of a Star. Until such a time arrives that I might inherit the title, I shall continue to be of service to my master and hone myself without end. |
| Morning Greeting | The day has dawned—I must pay my morning respects to master. Though I may find no welcome there, to hear my master groan so in constant torment, doomed to never know the reprieve of peaceful sleep, is... Yes, I must act as Ren (仁)—the Virtue of Humanity—dictates. |
| Afternoon Greeting | Once again, half the day has already slipped away. My humble self grows restless with such squandering of time, for it calls to mind the impending end of my existence. And yet... Whenever I witness the disorder and havoc those others raise, I find myself musing upon the merits of idleness. |
| Evening Greeting | As my master expects naught from my insignificant self... I must polish my blade through the dark of the night and persistently sharpen the form of my body so I may endure the dullness of todays and the emptiness of morrows. |
| Chatter #1 | The child of the Thumb... appears to have been brutally manhandled by the Nursefather yet again. While it is indeed of great import to instruct one's apprentice with a stern hand, this lack of restraint hardly conforms to Li (禮)—the Virtue of Propriety. I see the child, though thrashed and beaten down into the dust, dutifully bring the Nursefather a fresh round of liquor... |
| Chatter #2 | Keep silent for a moment, if you would. On a day such as this, with no duty calling my humble self beyond the House, there is a certain someone I must be wary of. Let us tread lightly here... <color=#ff9500>Huh? You stayed put at the House of Spiders all day? Okay, then didya check out <i>The Cloudburst Blade</i> I told ya about?</color> <color=#ff9500>Hey, wait! Where are you going?!</color> |
| Chatter #3 | The depths of man's heart is indeed beyond fathoming. The hand that now pats the head of his apprentice—is it a gesture given out of sincere affection, or merely an act performed at the behest of the Prescript? |
| Post-Uptie Chat 1 | Though this blade of mine may impeccably mimic that of the one who came before me... they say the one true apprentice of the House had a prowess that my humble self cannot ever hope to match. What kind of warrior that one was, I have but my imagination to rely upon. And so my lowly self brandishes this blade in training, forever simulating, approaching the height to which I aspire. |
| Post-Uptie Chat 2 | The Nursefathers of the House of Spiders each receive a task of their own from the upper echelons of the Fingers, and their apprentices, in turn, either assist them with it or are given separate charges. Yet... they say the one who came before me used to complete all of those tasks single-handedly. To house within one's self the teachings and trials that embody each Nursefather's art of battle—the road toward such a realm seems unimaginably taxing. |
| Idle | I do not well understand these other Nursefathers... But at times, I find myself stricken... with envy. Whether it be affection or resentment, such attentiveness to one's apprentice evinces a degree of care. |
| Uptying | A rare assignment my master has bestowed upon me. I shall treasure this chance, so as not to cast shame upon the Moonlit Azure Blade (月下靑刀) my master has imparted unto me. |
| Deployment | A summons? Then I shall gladly answer it. |
| Stage Entry | ... At long last. |
| Viewed in Battle | A single straight stroke to fell them all...! |
| Commencing Attack | Permit me to demonstrate. |
| Enemy Stagger | One mustn't submit so easily. |
| Staggered | Hngh...! |
| Enemy Killed | Another step closer to that singular Way of the Blade. |
| Death | A life so fleeting, a death meant to be... But this failure to inherit the name of a Star... is my woeful regret. |
| Check Passed | Such trifling matters does my master entrust me with... |
| Check Failed | No outcome is without reason... This must be why I am yet unworthy of standing as one of The Pinky. |
| Victory Cry | My endeavors were rather... wanting, but I shall not be dismayed. Though I may fail to inherit the name of a Star in this life, following in my master's footsteps shall sharpen and temper this insignificant self of mine. |
| Extra Conditions Fulfilled | How did you find the demonstration? My humble self is inclined to believe that I have gained something of value. Should I return bearing the heads of these fallen foes... Then perhaps, this time, my master might speak of the name Dihui Star... and how I am growing to deserve it. |
| Defeat Wail | It seems my lowly self's usefulness... has run its course here. This sword of mine is still soft and dull—unable to safeguard the fragile, delicate master I serve, nor attain the uttermost height of the Way of the Blade. In the end, I have achieved nothing of worth... |
The Orthodox Blade [整劍]
Combat Start: Gain ((Pride Reson. / 2) + 1) <<((Breath))Poise>> (max 4, rounded down)
Combat End: At 20+ <<((Breath))Poise>>, gain +1 <<((Breath))Poise>> Count
Tranquility [靜念]
INDIGO x 2
The ally with the fastest Speed heals 5 SP and gains 5 Shield when starting combat with a Defense Skill equipped
Chainstrike [連擊]
Chainstrike [連擊]
Chainstrike [連擊]
Chainstrike [連擊]
Nameless Slash [無名斬]
Nameless Slash [無名斬]
Nameless Slash [無名斬]
Nameless Slash [無名斬]
Fallstar Slayer [落星一殺]
Fallstar Slayer [落星一殺]
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
Master's Corridor, where only on the rarest of occasions is the silence broken by the aged wooden floor that creaks under the weight of our tabi-wrapped soles.
Somewhere within it, a clock hangs, and I hear it voicing the passage of time with unerring regularity.
The sound would never cease no matter what may come—even if someone were to die here in this place...
... as though to remind my humble self that this life of mine is waning with every second that passes.
Today, however, today... is a day worth rejoicing.
It is the first time in a long while that my master has deigned to impart unto me the techniques of the swordcraft I have longed to practice and digest.
I cannot deny that I am overjoyed; and yet, I am also filled with trepidation...
... for I might blunder and vex my master, and even the slightest indignation would mean that I must desperately block and evade the wrathful edge of the blade that seeks to make me pay.
That being said...
For all my shortcomings, it would appear that on this day, my master has again decided to simply take the measure of my sword arm without reprimanding me.
Is it because I have finally managed to become the flawless imitation of the one I am meant to simulate?
No, that is simply not possible.
Perhaps it began around the same time I started to suspect that my master has no care for me whatsoever, but...
... I am no longer offered any admonition, much less advice.
Outside of these rare days of instruction, I am taught nothing new, nor are my form and stance corrected.
The past lessons that had daunted the bumbling new pupil that I once was now only make me long for them, and often do I surprise myself whenever I realize how fondly I remember those days.
... Today's brief (and it couldn't indeed have been briefer) lesson ends without even a single exchange of words, and this insignificant self of mine supports and escorts my ailing master back to the quarters.
The tenacious shadow that has fallen upon my master's health is not a guest of but a day or two.
At times like this, however, a renewed pang of pity strikes my humble self, if only for a moment.
Though I have been scarred by countless words that sought to lacerate my soul, the sight of my master thus broken... seems to make the long years of the painful past melt away without my noticing.
As my master withdraws further, I find my humble self spending more and more days alone.
I sit upon the wooden floor of our Corridor's courtyard, taking in the view in silence.
This quiet perch is the perfect lookout from which I may observe the other Nursefathers and their wards with unobstructed vision.
The first thing I hear is the shattering of glass thrown in ire. I turn my gaze, and predictably, I see the Thumb's Nursefather and apprentice. This cacophony of shattering objects and angry shrieks tends to come from their side every time the apprentice fails to humor the Nursefather.
Truth be told, the Nursefather, more often than not, flies into bouts of rage even when the child has committed no real fault... only to praise later and make a pleased fuss over the apprentice's most trivial of acts. "Mood swings" is the appropriate term for such behaviors, I believe.
... That one over there is the Middle's child. She's alone today, it seems.
Her Nursefather often returns with a car trunk full of things; perhaps yet another homecoming of such nature looms on the horizon.
Whether alone or with her Nursefather, the girl's attitude and conduct hardly change—she usually has her nose buried in illustrated books or watches motion pictures that emit noises that offend the eardrums.
The only difference is that when in each other's company, they exchange idle chatter as they read and watch those books and videos together...
Ah, come to think of it, she likes to pester the other children to read what she enjoys, begging them to give it a chance. Yet the contents of her favorite distractions are hardly worthy of consideration,
and when I voiced this outright, she swore she'd "feed ya till ya get what a masterpiece it is," and has since been relentlessly chasing after me, causing me quite an inconvenience. I must avert my gaze from her today, lest our eyes meet and she interprets it as an interest in her pastime.
With all that time wasted on trivial pleasures, I wonder when she ever finds the time to improve her form and train her swordplay, but as she does, at times, notice my scrutiny despite how far this courtyard is, she must be doing <i>something</i> akin to training, at the very least.
And there at the gates, crossing the threshold with a sack soaked and dripping with blood... is the Ring's apprentice.
The child must have been collecting "ingredients,"—corpse parts, to be exact. That apprentice has also been rather busy of late, with the Nursefather's so-called "art critique" approaching soon.
As the Nursefather rarely steps out of the Ring's Corridor and seldom socializes with the apprentice, I once approached the charge hoping for a conversation, wondering if we shared the same kind of plight...
... only to be told that the Ring's Nursefather is simply immersed in work, lost in the height of artistic passion that the apprentice seeks to emulate.
"Though the Maestro has stepped down from the position within The Ring, the fascination with beauty remains. That is an inspiration for my artwork, too," I remember the child telling me with barely concealed exultance.
My humble self could scarcely relate, yet somehow, I felt I almost grasped the reason that the child would find joy in it... and I'm quite sure I nodded along.
Lastly, those two people walking closely together... are the Index.
For all the time I have lived under the roof of the House, I've barely traded words with them. How should I put this... The Index's apprentice—she is someone of inscrutable character. Perhaps she fears anyone and everyone save for her Nursefather, as she always appears anxious about what the others are thinking, her eyes darting from corner to corner. She never misses an opportunity to announce her laudation for her Nursefather, making any attempt at conversation arduous indeed.
As for her Nursefather... no, better I refrain from speaking of him.
If he possesses any human mind at all, it is one my humble self finds impossible to fathom, and I hesitate to judge with haste that which I am not acquainted with.
Even so, he appears to be on close terms with his apprentice, at least from what I can see...
... No. This, too, is best left unelaborated.
Such observation will bring me no benefit.
That night, I was entrusted with a duty for the first time in a long while.
Some call it "homework," others "assignment," or simply "errand," as they carry out their duties one after another. To me, however, receiving a duty is proof of my Nursefather's attention. As the stream of service has dried to a trickle, then a drought, I welcome every work and am eager to see it done.
Unlike the other apprentices, my lowly self...
... has never borne a name within the Pinky, and I yet walk the path that one day might lead me to inherit the title of Dihui Star.
Alone, I tighten my grip on the hilt of my blade, cleaving the cold air in the likeness of the sword form that is said to have been wielded by the one true apprentice of all Nursefathers and the Fingers to which they belong.
The hilt clicks and rattles at the beginning and end of each trail of the blade—much like the tick-tock of the clock's second hand that spurs me to hurry.
And in between, I find my humble self thinking:
My life will soon come to an end. What is the point of dreaming this fleeting dream?
I know I will never meet the endpoint, just as the spiral that never manages to punch through and reach the other side.
......
Ah, this won't do. These unfocused thoughts will only serve to obstruct my mind on the Way of the Blade.
Such ponderment only distances me from attainment, for the quest for interest and the pursuit of achievement repel each other.
So I shall simply continue to rehearse and demonstrate until my blade can more closely, more indistinguishably simulate... the authentic original.
Who knows, this might be the day. Today, my master might come out and sit here on this wooden floor to watch me train.
Hmm. Even this is an indolent state of the mind.
My master is always watching me. I must believe that... I must.
Stronger. Sharper. That is how I must temper myself, so I may carry out all tasks, acting in my master's stead.
Let my humble self be guided by the very first sentiment that arises when I look upon my master. That alone will allow my actions to stay true to the Virtue of Humanity.
Perhaps, with perseverance, someday...
I may yet become someone who walked the way that befits the Virtue of Humanity...
Even if I had come to a stop without reaching its end.