| “ | You can take everything, but I'll still live on. | ” |
Bio[]
Not long after Minestrone was summoned, he was sold by his Master Attendant to an underground organization as a test subject. After escaping after many years, he transformed into a monster that feeds off negative emotions. He is constantly on the run, and vengeance consumes his heart. He has a strong survival instinct, and even though he survives off of nightmares everyday, he still won't lay down and die as others might wish. Although his body and mind are constantly mired in pain, he always forces himself to wear a smile on his face and never show pain or weakness in front of others. However, he has no idea how stiff and twisted his smile can appear.
Food Introduction[]
Minestrone is a thick Italian soup made with soup stock and season vegetables, often with noodles or rice added in, and sometimes both. Common ingredients include beans, onion, celery, carrots, broth, and tomatoes. There is no fixed recipe, and it can be all-vegetarian or contain meat.
Other Info[]
How to Acquire[]
Associated Events
- Secret Garden
- Late Night Tipple
- Nightmarish Chaos
- Dark Garden
- Pinnacle of Youth
- Encore Party XVIII
- Encore Party XXIII
- Rain Ceases at Dusk
- Encore Party XXV
- Sun-Drenched Fields
- Encore Party XXVI
- Song & Wine
- Encore Party XXVII
- Encore Party XXVIII
- Rolling Hills & Low Clouds
- Cranes Roosting
- Divine Dragon's Blessings
- May Day Exclusive
Initial Stats[]
 Soul Power
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2518 |
|---|---|
 Attack
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143 |
 Defense
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14 |
 HP
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412 |
 Crit Rate
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1152 |
 Crit Dmg
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722 |
 Atk Spd
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1843 |
Skills[]
| Incubus Possession | Basic Skill | |
|---|---|---|
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Minestrone enters a nightmare, activating Rage for all allies and dealing 100 (1300) damage to all allies, while also boosting their basic attacks by 15% (27%) and their attack speed by 15% (27%), lasting 3 seconds. Meanwhile, also dispels all negative effects from all allied units. | |
| Return of the Dead | Energy Skill | |
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Minestrone's blood boils, activating vengeance mode and dealing 40% (80%) ATK as damage to all enemies, plus 419 (5447) extra damage, while also boosting ATK by 25% for all allies and preventing all enemies from receiving healing, lasting 5 seconds. | |
| Super Return of the Dead | Link Skill | |
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Minestrone's blood boils, activating vengeance mode and dealing 60% (120%) ATK as damage to all enemies, plus 503 (6539) extra damage, while also boosting ATK by 40% for all allies and preventing all enemies from receiving healing, lasting 5 seconds. | 
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blue = lvl 1
red = max lvlVoice Lines[]
| JP | CN | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Contract | Ha... ha... Attendant, look. Even though I went to the land of demons, I'm still alive and back by your side. | ||
| Log In | Heh, I knew it... How could you stand being away? | ||
| Ice Arena | It was a place bitter cold like this one where I once got trapped in a nightmare with a friend. Everything was covered in ice and snow. That's strange, it was obviously an awful time, so why do I look back on it fondly? | ||
| Skills | Ready to be dismembered by a nightmare?! | ||
| Ascend | Hmph. What exactly do you want to change me into? | ||
| Fatigue | I need some painful things... | ||
| Recovering | ...Oh!!! Ha-- Ha-- | ||
| Team Formation | I will make them enjoy this nightmare... | ||
| Knockout | You want to see me rupture... dream on! | ||
| Notice | Tch. Close enough, right? | ||
| Idle 1 | Attendant, you know something? For so many people, just living happily is a pie-in-the-sky daydream. | ||
| Idle 2 | A true winner is one who enjoys suffering. | ||
| Idle 3 | Being accompanied by nightmares every night makes it easy to become desensitized. | ||
| Interaction 1 | I feel really good right now. You don't need to take pains avoiding my scars anymore. | ||
| Interaction 2 | Feeling regret now? Too bad, I'm calling the shots this time. | ||
| Interaction 3 | Reason? What reason do you want? Don't you and I both know the truth about this world down in our bones? Hahahaha-- | ||
| Pledge | Do you even understand that when I extend a hand to you, it's only because I want to drag you into my nightmare? And you still love me? You even love my nightmare? Heh, you really are... the dumbest, stupidest, most irrational person I've ever laid eye on! | ||
| Intimacy 1 | I said before, I want to lock you in that grey prison... So if you want to avoid regret, don't test my self-control like this. | ||
| Intimacy 2 | You keep perpetuating this relationship of mutual harm with me. Does that not mean you like it too? | ||
| Intimacy 3 | No dreaming of me allowed. I'll get jealous of that knock-off me in the dream, understand? | ||
| Victory | What kind of beautiful flower do you think I resemble when my blood is boiling like this? | ||
| Defeat | Hilarious! It clearly wasn't me who screwed up! | ||
| Feeding | What are you doing? You think giving me something sweet will make me do whatever you want? | ||
Skins
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Main[]
Sprite[]
Sprite Animations[]
Normal[]
Day of Creation[]
Other[]
Backgrounds[]
Illustrations[]
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Contents of this page has been fan-translated by BasilCosmo and may not be completely accurate. Official translations will be added whenever it's available. |
I. Betrayal
Sicily[1], the tourist island south of Gloriville’s seas. A paradise in the eyes of humans—yet a cursed land I loathe with every fiber of my being. All the sins and evils that define me were born here. No matter how picturesque it may seem, no one knows better than I do that its soil has long been tainted by corruption. If there were ever a perfect place to cultivate the flowers of wickedness, this would be it. And, of course, everything unfolded just as I expected.
Not long after I returned, carrying the seeds of that wicked flower, every human on the island was ensnared in an unprecedented nightmare. I swear on my honor—I have traveled far and wide, carrying that flower with me, but only in this land did it reveal such an insatiable hunger, as if it had finally tasted the finest delicacy. Yet, when they passed judgment on me, those self-righteous fools screamed that I had tortured them to death in the cruelest manner possible.
What a joke!
If their hearts weren’t already burdened by darkness, then why would the abyss stare back at them? No one understands this truth better than I do. But arriving at such a perfect conclusion came at a great cost. At first, I was just another foolishly naïve Food Soul, devoted to the one who had summoned me. Like all the others, I affectionately called him "Master Attendant," swearing my loyalty and following him wherever he went, ready to fight and bleed at his command.
Countless times, I slew the Fallen Angels, both great and small, spilling their blood onto the earth—leaving my own wounds in the process. And yet, when the battle was over, all he ever said to me was:
"Minestrone, you’re too slow. You never manage to take down the most valuable Fallen Angels."
Then, he would have me drag their corpses to the town’s bulletin board, where I would hand them over to the local chef’s guild in exchange for bags upon bags of coins. At first, he deceived me with sweet words, claiming he had a dream of saving the world but needed to secure food and shelter first. Later, when he realized that no matter how much I resented him, I was powerless to leave his side, he dropped the act entirely.
From then on, all he cared about was how much more money I could make for him. I detested how he used me, but I tolerated it. After all, he was just a human—his life would only last a few decades. And truthfully, Sicily was steeped in poverty. He was the only chef on the island, and its entire economy relied on the two of us hunting Fallen Angels.
So I let it go. Until the day he crossed the line. I will never forget that day. I had just returned from another hunt, bloodied but victorious, with a sack of gold in hand. But what awaited me at the docks was a trap—one that had been meticulously prepared in advance. The ones controlling it were a group of humans I had never seen before, all clad in identical black robes. Their eyes bore into me with a gaze I knew all too well—the same way I looked at the Fallen Angels I was about to slaughter.
To see that same predatory gaze turned on me… it was revolting. But I had just come back from battle, already wounded, and I lacked the strength to resist. I struggled to escape, clinging to a desperate hope—that he, my so-called companion, would come to my aid.
Surely, after all the money I had made for him, he wouldn’t just abandon me… right?
Then, I turned around and met his gaze—shifty, evasive. And in that instant, I understood everything.
This wasn’t just a trap.
It was a hunt.
And he had allowed it to happen. No—he had arranged it. And yet, I had been foolish enough to think he would save me. I roared in rage, fought with all I had, and demanded to know why he had done this to me. He cowered behind the robed figures, stammering.
"Th-they're from the capital. They’re gathering Gloriville’s strongest Food Souls for… special training."
"You should go with them. You’ll become stronger that way. And besides, it’s for the good of Gloriville, isn’t it?"
What kind of nonsense was that? Who would believe such an obvious lie?
I pressed him further, demanding to know what kind of deal he had made with these people. He refused to answer.
In the end, it was their leader who told me the truth. My so-called Master Attendant had sold me to them. In exchange, the royal family of Gloriville had agreed to invest in Sicily’s future. This… this was a deal that benefitted the entire island.
What a perfect arrangement. One that would free them from their struggles—forever.
I turned to look at the dockside. For the first time, I noticed the islanders standing at a distance, silent and still. They watched me, the people I had once known—expressions twisting into an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Mom, where are they taking Minestrone—?"
A child’s voice rang out. In the next moment, his mother clamped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off. She silenced his words. And in doing so, she severed the last thread of kindness I held toward humanity.
As the black-robed figures dragged me away, I stopped asking questions. Instead, I committed their faces to memory.
Every single one of them.
One day, they will pay.
And when that day comes—I will collect every last debt they owe me.
II. Darkness
What exactly are we, the Food Souls?
If we were given free will and intelligence, then why are our bodies forever bound by unseen contracts?
Are we born with such contradictions because the gods' lives lack a fitting absurd comedy?
After being captured by the black-robed people and thrown into a cage, I no longer had to spend all my energy hunting Fallen Angels like before. Instead, I found myself with an abundance of idle time, time to ponder these meaningless, unanswerable questions.
For the first few years, I attempted to escape multiple times, only to be recaptured and subjected to severe punishment. Back then, I would still roar at my tormentors in anger, my voice growing hoarse from the effort. Every time, the eyes beneath their hoods would gleam with mockery. One day, as I met their derisive gazes, I suddenly awakened to something. I realized that I had been acting no differently from a primitive, mindless beast trapped in a cage, baring my fangs at my abusers in a futile display. To them, it was nothing more than a joke.
From that day onward, I stopped. If they sought not only to exploit me but also to extract some cheap entertainment from my suffering, I would not grant them that satisfaction. Speaking of exploitation—that became the true theme of my life after imprisonment.
At first, I had no idea what their purpose for capturing me was. Each day, they would pierce my body with strange instruments, extracting my blood. Aside from these scheduled extractions and meal deliveries, I spent the rest of my time locked in a basement beneath a tower, submerged in complete darkness.
Of course, I was not the only Food Soul imprisoned there. The daily bloodletting left me in a constant state of weakness. I assumed it was the same for the others. I heard all sorts of voices—some pleading to live, others begging for death. Regrettably, by the time I left that place, I had never seen their faces nor learned of their fates.
I was taken out of that pitch-black dungeon after several years. At first, I didn’t understand why I had been singled out. But later, I realized—it was because I had stopped struggling, because I had accepted their punishments with eerie calm. When I refused to be their source of amusement, they mistook it for submission. Once I understood their childish thinking, I only looked down on them all the more.
But I did not let it show. I continued to comply with their demands, feigning obedience. They dressed me in a white restraint suit, subjected me to endless examinations, turned me over again and again like some specimen for observation. I did not resist.
And so, time passed. Eventually, their leader finally deemed me worthy of conversation. He told me their goal. They had been purchasing Food Souls from the Master Attendants—to create a brand-new god.
III. Suffering
In this era where the gods have vanished, these madmen sought to create a "god"—one that would use the body of a Food Soul as its vessel and exist eternally to protect humanity. Unlike Food Souls, who, due to their contracts, could only safeguard humans for a few decades at most, this so-called artificial god would dedicate its everlasting existence to fighting against the Fallen Angels.
—What an absurd daydream.
No matter how much I cursed them in my heart for their delusions, shamelessness, and insatiable greed, I outwardly displayed nothing but understanding. I knew that only by gaining their full trust could I have a chance to leave this place alive.
So, I took the initiative and offered myself as the experimental subject for their so-called "artificial god" project. These lunatics were ecstatic. In whatever ancient magical doctrine they had unearthed, it was written that the creation of such a "god" required the voluntary consent of the spirit serving as its vessel. To them, I was probably just a pathetic coward clinging to life.
But I didn’t care.
From that day on, although I was still imprisoned, their treatment of me improved significantly. I received more spirit power supplements, and both my body and mind gradually recovered. But the exploitation continued. They still drew blood from me—more often than not, directly from my heart. I gritted my teeth, smiled, and endured the excruciating pain, telling the one holding the blade, "Go ahead, it's fine."
Time passed like this until, one day, they threw someone into my cell—someone with a face identical to mine. The lunatics assured me there was no need to be alarmed; it was merely my duplicate, an empty shell without a soul. It turned out they were afraid of losing their precious experiment subject, so they decided to create multiple replicas of my body. These soulless copies would undergo preliminary testing until their experiment was perfected, at which point I would be the final, ultimate vessel. They were indeed cautious, terrified that I might resist at the last moment and ruin everything.
But in the end, they were merely humans—devoid of true insight. What they failed to realize was that, even if these duplicates were just hollow shells in their eyes, even if they were crafted from nothing more than the blood and flesh extracted from me, a silent understanding still existed between us—something they could never comprehend.
By doing this, they were unknowingly raising an army for me. To prevent confusion between me and my duplicates, they deliberately removed one eye from each replica. But for me, this only played further into my hands. I spent a long time carefully observing their experimental routines, learning every detail until, one fateful night, I finally executed my plan.
I instructed one of my duplicates to gouge out my right eye and place it into its own empty socket. I don’t remember if it hurt. Because that entire night, the sheer euphoria of impending escape coursed through my veins, drowning out all other sensations.
The next day, just as I had anticipated, the black-robed cultists—who had long since grown numb to their routine—failed to notice that the "replica" standing before them was no longer the same as the one from yesterday. Feigning mindlessness, I obeyed their orders without resistance. They draped a cloak adorned with multicolored gemstones over my shoulders and led me to a grand altar. They arranged flowers at my feet and, before the ritual began, even sang hymns in my honor.
But all of it was nothing more than a blasphemous charade—for even now, my shackles had yet to be removed. Until the moment the "god-making" ritual commenced. They attached numerous devices to my limbs and neck. The instant they activated the machines, they finally removed my restraints. At last, I felt pain. But I couldn’t scream.
Was my soul drifting away?
Why was I seeing Sicily?
Ah, right… my grudge from Sicily—I must not die here!
…
Everything after that is a blur. By the time I regained consciousness, I was dragging my broken body through the streets of Midgard, barely holding myself together. I felt someone chasing me and could only keep running forward. Eventually, I took shelter inside a residential house. And there, I came face to face with the one who had been hunting me—Turducken.
IV. Depravity
Turducken is a Food Soul who doesn’t see herself as one. She’s always talking about things like souls and obsessions, acting like she understands me better than I do.
What a self-important person.
But since she stitched up my wounds, I won’t argue with her over it. She lives with a Food Soul called Pan de Muerto in a cemetery on the outskirts of Midgard. They asked me to stay, and I didn’t refuse. I did need a place to rest. Not just for recovery—but more importantly, because I had noticed something strange happening to my body after escaping from that experiment.
I lost all desire for the food that once restored my spiritual energy. In fact, the very thought of eating it made me nauseous. Instead, the lingering negative energy drifting through the graveyard called to me—tempting me like a deadly poppy. I didn’t understand why. But I instinctively knew that if I wanted to survive, I couldn’t turn away from that temptation.
So every night, I climbed over the wall and wandered the cemetery. At first, that was enough. But soon, it wasn’t. The leftover negative energy from the dead no longer satisfied me. I started to venture beyond the graveyard. Like a fish thirsting for water, like a vampire craving blood, I was drawn by instinct to places filled with negative energy. And the people in those places—they were either newly dead or living lives “worse than death.”
I told none of this to Turducken or Pan de Muerto. I never wanted to show weakness in front of anyone again. But in the end, they found out. That morning, I buried my pigeon alive with my own hands—even though it had never done anything to provoke me. Pan de Muerto saw everything. She shouted, asking me what I was doing.
I told her it was my companion beast, and I buried it because I found it annoying. Pan de Muerto said no Food Soul would ever abuse their companion beast like that. I ignored her and calmly brushed the last white feathers from my clothes. She was terrified. She turned and ran, no doubt to tell Turducken.
Let her. What a coward.
I dusted myself off and strolled out. On the street, I saw a drunkard, completely wasted. He kept crying, saying he didn’t want to live anymore. But I knew the truth—no one truly wants to die. When people say they want to die, it’s just that they don’t know how to keep living—since you don’t want to go on living, why not give your life to me instead?
I lazily followed behind him. After a night of hunting, I returned to Pan de Muerto’s house at dawn. Before stepping inside, I heard them talking about the recent deaths in Midgar. Pan de Muerto seemed to want to call in a new investigative agency to look into it. But the moment they saw me, they fell silent. I knew what they were suspecting, but I didn’t care.
Then Turducken stopped me. She asked if those deaths had anything to do with me—why so many witnesses claimed to have seen a red-haired, one-eyed man before the victims died. I hated that they remembered my eyes.
So I coldly replied: “They all deserved to die.”
Without another word, she knocked me out. When I woke up in bed again, I was furious.
Why does she always knock me out without asking? Can’t she just talk like a normal person?
If she truly cared about me as much as she claimed, why wouldn’t she let me explain myself?
Anger burned inside me as I stormed toward the door, ready to confront her. But then I heard her voice from the living room, speaking to Pan de Muerto.
“…He’s falling into corruption. He can’t control himself anymore. Don’t be afraid—I’ll take care of him.”
Hah. There it was again.
Self-righteous…
Why do you get to decide when to save me? When to “take care” of me?
Why do all of you think you have the right to take away my will to live?
*Bang!*
The fury I had suppressed for so long finally erupted. Amidst Pan de Muerto’s frightened scream, I let the negative energy take over—and fired multiple shots at them. Through the raging flames, I left behind that brief refuge. Beneath the trembling earth, the pigeon I had buried the day before clawed its way out of the soil. It had finally turned completely black—melding into the darkness, just like me.
That was good.
The last part of my past self had been erased. Now, I could finally forget who I once was. Now, I could walk forward without hesitation. Corruption didn’t matter. Being broken didn’t matter. Losing everything didn’t matter. Before my revenge is complete… all I need is to stay alive.
V. Minestrone
Minestrone was summoned on a small island at the southernmost end of Gloriville. This island was sparsely populated. Though it belonged to Gloriville, it was barely acknowledged, and life on the island was impoverished and underdeveloped.
In this environment, the only Food Soul Master ever born was the one who summoned Minestrone. To survive, his summoner took him back and forth between the island and Gloriville's mainland for years, hunting Fallen Angels in exchange for gold to support the island’s people. However, as the islanders gradually became wealthier, their fear of returning to poverty grew stronger. They worried that once their Master passed away, Minestrone would no longer listen to them or fight on their behalf.
Thus, when a group of black-robed figures claiming to be from Midgar appeared—half threatening, half tempting them—the islanders collectively decided to sell Minestrone. Bound by his contract, Minestrone was unable to resist his Master's decision. He became a test subject in an absurd but decades-long experiment to artificially create a god among Food Souls.
Yet his tenacious will to survive ultimately allowed him to escape. However, his body suffered irreversible damage. After being rescued by Turducken, he briefly hoped he could reintegrate into society through his own efforts. But that hope was quickly shattered.
Turducken was right—he had no control over his own energy. The buildup of negative energy made him increasingly extreme and irritable. In a fit of rage triggered by a single comment from Turducken, he burned down his house. At the time, Minestrone was unaware of these changes. Pursued by Turducken and, later, by the agents of the Eye of Horus, he fled northward, until he was finally driven into the icy wastelands of the Extreme Snow Fields.
He thought he had reached a dead end—only to discover a warm cave. Inside the cave, he encountered a type of spirit plant. This plant was called the Flower of Malice. It preyed on creatures by generating negative emotions, trapping them in nightmares until they perished. Sensing that Minestrone was an ideal host, the Flower of Malice tempted him with an offer: it would help him take revenge. Minestrone agreed to the parasite’s conditions. Even if it meant suffering from nightmares every night for the rest of his life, he was willing to endure it. What he didn’t expect was that the cave was actually a cultivation site belonging to Mashed Potatoes. The Flower of Malice had been deliberately planted here, carefully isolated to prevent harm to others.
Half a month later, Mashed Potatoes arrived to check on the flowerbed. Seeing Minestrone, he assumed he had stumbled in and been injured by the Flower of Malice by accident. Feeling deeply apologetic, he tried to help him. Minestrone had planned to use this as an opportunity—to make Mashed Potatoes his first test subject for the Flower of Malice’s power. But he hadn’t anticipated that Mashed Potatoes would not only be completely unguarded but would also go out of his way to protect him. He even warmly invited him to visit his botanical garden someday. That innocence and kindness made it impossible for him to strike.
In the end, he left, taking the Flower of Malice with him, heading alone toward the island where he was born. That place had been his first "home." It was also the place that had pushed him into the depths of hell. Returning there, he completed half of his revenge. But his vengeance was far from over.
Compared to the unarmed islanders who had died so easily, the tower where he had been imprisoned for years—and the vast organization behind it—was far more difficult to confront. He needed far greater power to oppose them. For that, he was willing to do whatever it took.
Guided by the whispers of the Flower of Malice, Minestrone set out to find a place known as the Garden of Eden. It was said that the highest power of plant spirits resided there—one that could control life and death itself. With that goal in mind, he left Sicily without hesitation.
As he rowed away from the island, watching the ripples in the water, an image surfaced in his mind without warning—Mashed Potatoes’ eyes. And the botanical garden he had spoken of. At the time, he thought it was just a fleeting association. He didn’t know that, long after, that would become the only place he truly wanted to return to.
Notes
- ↑ In real life, Sicily is one of Italy's regions, located in the southern part of the country. It is the "toe" of the "boot".
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| Togi Node I - Crit Rate | |
|---|---|
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Once every 15s, after an attack:
① Deals 35% ( 46% 58% 71% 84% 99% 117% 139% 166% 200% ) ATK as dmg to all enemies
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Once every 15s, after an attack:
① Deals 35% ( 46% 58% 71% 84% 99% 117% 139% 166% 200% ) ATK as dmg to all enemies
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Once every 15s, after an attack:
① Deals 35% ( 46% 58% 71% 84% 99% 117% 139% 166% 200% ) ATK as dmg to all enemies
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| Togi Node II - HP | |
|---|---|
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Once every 30s, after an attack:
① Deals 44% ( 58% 73% 88% 105% 123% 146% 174% 207% 250% ) ATK as dmg to the nearest two enemies and reduces their energy 3 ( 6 9 12 15 18 21 24 27 30 ) pts per sec for the next 3s
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Once every 30s, after an attack:
① Deals 44% ( 58% 73% 88% 105% 123% 146% 174% 207% 250% ) ATK as dmg to the nearest two enemies and reduces their energy 3 ( 6 9 12 15 18 21 24 27 30 ) pts per sec for the next 3s
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Every 30s, after an attack, deals 52% ( 69% 88% 106% 126% 148% 175% 209% 249% 300% ) ATK as dmg to three random enemies |
| Togi Node III - Attack | |
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① Every 8s, boosts the damage dealt by the ally with the lowest current HP percentage by 10% ( 13% 17% 21% 25% 29% 35% 41% 49% 60% ) for the next 4s, but also disables this ally from receiving healing for the following 4s
② At the same time, deals 17% ( 23% 29% 35% 42% 49% 58% 69% 83% 100% ) ATK as dmg to the nearest enemy |
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① Every 8s, boosts the damage dealt by the ally with the lowest current HP percentage by 10% ( 13% 17% 21% 25% 29% 35% 41% 49% 60% ) for the next 4s, but also disables this ally from receiving healing for the following 4s
② At the same time, reduces energy by 2 ( 5 7 10 12 15 17 20 22 25 ) pts per sec for all enemy support units for the next 4s |
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① Every 8s, boosts the damage dealt by the ally with the lowest current HP percentage by 10% ( 13% 17% 21% 25% 29% 35% 41% 49% 60% ) for the next 4s, but also disables this ally from receiving healing for the following 4s
② At the same time, dispels any buffs from the enemy with the lowest HP percentage and deals 1.4%（1.8% 2.3% 2.8% 3.3% 3.9% 4.6% 5.5% 6.6% 8%）of the unit's lost HP as dmg to the unit (does not take effect against most large-size enemies) |
| Togi Node IV - Crit Dmg | |
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Once every 6s, deals 28%（37% 47% 56% 67% 79% 93% 111% 133% 160%）ATK as dmg to the nearest enemy, while also casting a 3s Silence on two random enemy support units |
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Once every 6s, deals 28%（37% 47% 56% 67% 79% 93% 111% 133% 160%）ATK as dmg to the nearest enemy, while also boosting the attack speed of the highest-ATK ally by 28%（37% 47% 56% 67% 79% 93% 111% 133% 160%）for the next 3s |
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Once every 6s, deals 42%（55% 70% 85% 101% 118% 140% 167% 199% 240%）ATK as dmg to the nearest enemy |
| Togi Node V - Crit Rate | |
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① Every 8s, boosts own skill dmg 14%（18% 23% 28% 33% 39% 46% 55% 66% 80%）, lasting 3s.
② With each skill cast, if the highest-DEF enemy has HP higher than 80% of Max HP, it will deal an extra 35%（46% 58% 71% 84% 99% 117% 139% 166% 200%）ATK as dmg against him/her |
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① Every 8s, boosts own skill dmg 14%（18% 23% 28% 33% 39% 46% 55% 66% 80%）, lasting 3s.
② With each skill cast, if the highest-DEF enemy has HP higher than 80% of Max HP, you will become invincible for the next 2s |
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① Every 8s, boosts own skill dmg 14%（18% 23% 28% 33% 39% 46% 55% 66% 80%）, lasting 3s.
② With each skill cast, if the highest-DEF enemy has HP higher than 80% of Max HP, for the next 3s, all allies will have dmg dealt boosted by 7%（9% 11% 14% 16% 19% 23% 27% 33% 40%） |