| “ | Only by getting stronger can I protect the Candied Wax Gourds. Those pets are... the most important thing in the world to me! | ” |
Bio[]
A sleepy pretty boy who seems to be able to fall asleep anytime. He always holds the name of his companion creatures, the Candied Wax Gourds, in his heart; and the two rarely are separated. He was born with a supple and delicate skin, but his personality is quite grumpy. If one accidentally wakes him when a drowsy spell is hitting him, or call him by the wrong name... one might get a blast of anger that hits much harder than a powder keg.
Food Introduction[]
Tradition has it that sweetheart cake originated in the late Yuan/early Ming dynasty period, made by Ma Shi, the wife of Zhu Yuanzhang. Worried for the rebel soldiers always rushing around from place to place, Ma Shi baked a cake made from wax gourd and wheat that would be convenient to take on marches. During the Qing dynasty in the Chaoshan region, they began putting candied wax gourd, cake flour, maltose, sesame seeds, etc. as filling, thus creating a cake that had every man pining after one taste of this "delicious flavor just like their sweetheart made back home".
Other Info[]
How to Acquire[]
Associated Events
Initial Stats[]
 Soul Power
|
1966 |
|---|---|
 Attack
|
65 |
 Defense
|
26 |
 HP
|
574 |
 Crit Rate
|
817 |
 Crit Dmg
|
645 |
 Atk Spd
|
1218 |
Skills[]
| Gourd Fury | Basic Skill | |
|---|---|---|
|
Sweetheart Cake tosses a green wax gourd at the enemy and uses a rolling pin to hit the enemy on the head, dealing 100% (180%) ATK as damage plus 217 (2821) extra damage to the highest-ATK enemy, also with a 50% chance of silencing the target, lasting 3 seconds. | |
| Good Housekeeping | Energy Skill | |
|
Sweetheart Cake waves his hand, summoning a lot of rolling pins around himself, then casts them at the enemy, dealing 40% (80%) ATK as damage plus 155 (2015) extra damage to all enemies, and lowering their attack speed by 15%, lasting 4 seconds. | |
| Super Good Housekeeping | Link Skill | |
|
Sweetheart Cake waves his hand, summoning a lot of rolling pins around himself, then casts them at the enemy, dealing 60% (120%) ATK as damage plus 178 (2314) extra damage to all enemies, and lowering their attack speed by 18%, lasting 4 seconds. | 
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blue = lvl 1
red = max lvlVoice Lines[]
| JP | CN | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Contract | ...So sleepy... Eh? Wh-who're you?! ...Attendant? Hmph, in the future remember to pick a more suitable time to call me! | ||
| Log In | You came back pretty fast... Ahem, I was talking to the Candied Wax Gourds—not you. | ||
| Ice Arena | ...This ice is so slippery... Ack, Candied Wax Gourds, don't tug on me! S-slow down! | ||
| Skills | That's what you get for judging a book by its cover! | ||
| Ascend | Now I'll bet no one will dare underestimate me! | ||
| Fatigue | So sleepy. Need a nap... Attendant, don't try to catch me while I'm sleeping and... do anything weird... | ||
| Recovering | Attendant... if you dare disturb my sleep again... I'll make sure you never see tomorrow's Candied Wax Gourds! | ||
| Team Formation | I will come back laden with spoils of war. ...If I don't fall asleep on the way. | ||
| Knockout | Darnit... is this... my maximum limit...? | ||
| Notice | It's done. Come have a taste... Hey, what's with this look of delight on your face? If you dare call me that again, I'll... I'll pummel you! | ||
| Idle 1 | Where'd Attendant run off to this time... Candied Wax Gourds, don't you start acting like Attendant. Never... never, ever leave my side... | ||
| Idle 2 | I'll just take a little power nap... an all-day power nap... two days—no, three—no, every day... Zzz... Zzz... | ||
| Idle 3 | Oh? Will wearing these clothes make me seem more imposing? ...No, my face is still the problem... | ||
| Interaction 1 | I told you, the name's not Sweetheart—it's Sweetheart Cake! Agh—Attendant, you're trying to make me angry, aren't you!? | ||
| Interaction 2 | Quiet... Let me sleep a little while longer... just a little while... zzz... | ||
| Interaction 3 | Oh! Darnit, don't pinch my face! No matter how good your hand feels! | ||
| Pledge | C-contract? Hold it right there. I'm a by-the-book kind of person, so any big things like this have got to be run by the Candied Wax Gourds first! ...No! That doesn't mean I'm already ready to say yes! No calling me Sweetheart!! Silence!! | ||
| Intimacy 1 | Hm? You're sleepy? ...Lean on me and sleep tight. This time, it's my turn to watch over you. | ||
| Intimacy 2 | ...Hey, buddy... Don't start poking at me while I'm drowsy! ...Eh? Attendant? I-I didn't know it was you... | ||
| Intimacy 3 | You like the Candied Wax Gourds? ...well, they also... don't hate you... | ||
| Victory | Hmph, compared to the amount of effort I put out, this little victory is hardly worth celebrating. ...Hey, you could at least say thanks before you walk away! | ||
| Defeat | Really? I'm... still not strong enough...? | ||
| Feeding | This... is for me? Ahem, tastes pretty alright. Thank you... | ||
Skins
| Cozy New Wish | |||||||
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| Many-Lanterned Festival | |||||||
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Main[]
Sprites[]
Sprite Animations[]
Normal[]
Cozy New Wish[]
I. Mask
The Sky City of Amagi, located on the border of the Light Kingdom, is a strategically located stronghold which the God-King constructed using all the power of the land. It's also this vast empire's stalwart first line of defense against the Fallen Angels.
I'm familiar with the arid winds of Amagi, and the slight sting of sand scouring one's cheeks. I've also seen broken spears and halberds mired in turbid muck, and felt the earth damp with the blood of Fallen Angels and comrades.
This is where my life began, the land where my Attendant summoned me.
Attendant's family, under the decree of the God-King, has been a great military house guarding Amagi for generations; and all in their tribe to a person have been through arduous training on the sand-scoured battlefields, girls no exception.
Long years of doing battle with Fallen Angels had cultivated in Master Attendant an iron-fisted command over the army which he wielded like a thunderbolt. His army was like a sandstorm on the desert plains, swallowing whole those rats and scorpions not fit for the climate.
In such a strict and stern military troop always on the march, my existence... stuck out like a sore thumb.
"—Hey, Sweetheart, did you not eat? Why are you always lagging behind?"
"Don't... don't use that name!!!"
I ripped aside my mask and, while gasping in huge breaths, pumped my aching legs to propel myself forward and get away from the fellow soldier, Abel, who was ridiculing me. The others nearby, upon seeing my face, only laughed harder, to the point that one of them almost got a cramp.
"As pretty as you are, how can you not be Sweetheart?"
"Right! And the General gave you this mask to wear just so that you wouldn't steal away with our hearts!"
"You guys...!"
But I couldn't find any comeback to Abel's preposterous statement. Indeed, the reason Attendant had me wear this mask was because he was worried my all-too-delicate features would... get the troops stirred up.
But this is the skin I was born with. I certainly didn't have any choice in the matter. But did that mean I had to rip it off, toss it to the ground, and stomp all over it in order to look so-called "manly"?
I'm sure... there must be someone else who thought the same as me?
With hope still in my heart, I looked all around hoping to find someone who would challenge them; but all around, aside from boorish hecklers, there were only comrades stifling laughs and pretending not to hear.
My Candied Wax Gourds started making anxious chattering noises, but they might as well have been spitting in the wind for all the comfort it gave to me, already about to blow my top.
I grit my teeth and whipped out my weapon as I shouted:
"...Are you telling me every badass in this world looks the same!?"
Despite saying that, I still knew full well that I had never done any world-beating feats.
Probably because nobody thought I'd have such a huge reaction, the mood grew awkward all of a sudden. Even Abel and the ones leading the charge in mocking me all started scratching their heads and staring at each other, not daring to make a peep.
Just as I was about to storm off, a low yet stern voice barked out from behind me.
"—Any in-fighting among the ranks will be punished accordingly."
I clutched my weapon and pursed my lips defiantly. Turning around, I saw Attendant staring sternly at me with a deep disappointment in his gaze.
"...General, sir, please give your punishment."
Attendant preferred for me to address him as "General".
"Thirty laps, and we'll talk about the rest." With that, Attendant galloped on ahead. As he passed by me, his gaze paused on my face for a moment. "Put that mask back on. Let's get some decorum here."
I hung my head, my fingers clutching at the sand under my knees.
The crowd that had formed around the spectacle now dissipated, leaving only my companion Candied Wax Gourds snuggling around me, gently wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes with their furry bodies.
II. Cowardice
Fear or cowardice, rage or confusion...
I had no idea what sort of reaction to have to Attendant's decision to put me up on the forward most line in battle against the Fallen Angels.
Every time I passed him, I could only respond to his repeated tests with silence and negativity.
Did he really revile me so?
I couldn't help but waver.
Perhaps... it really was my fault?
"Sweetheart, what are you just standing there for?!"
A familiar voice snapped me out of my daze, and the blood instantly rushed to my pale cheeks. I eyed the enemy before me down until they backed off, then turned and bellowed at Abel, who was fighting back-to-back with me.
"I told you, don't call—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't call you by that name, right? Got it, Sweetheart! Loud and clear, Sweetheart!"
Abel laughed and shouted back at me.
Even in the face of a sudden Fallen Angel attack, he retained that same old haughty fighting spirit. And realizing in the moment that I might be flagging, he had the presence of mind to turn around in such a tense moment and prod me.
But this brief letting down of the guard played precisely into the enemy's hands.
Warm liquid splattered on my neck. I felt it hesitantly and saw on my curled up fingers a grim streak of bright red.
Turning around, I saw that the Fallen Angel's long spear had pierced Abel's chest, and he was hoisted into the air, casting a looming back-lit shadow down on me.
The blood dripping from the spearhead quickly lost its vitality upon contact with the air.
He finally stopped struggling.
I knew... Abel wouldn't be laughing at me anymore.
I stood there in shock, knowing without even thinking that this reaction made me a sitting duck on the battlefield.
A Fallen Angel standing not far away looked scornfully upon me.
He had a hideous wound across his face from his temple down to his jawline, practically splitting his face into two disjointed continents. In the rift between them, I faintly made out writhing bits of putrid flesh.
This perverse visage with that special demonic power had me transfixed.
"It's no use, coward."
He sneered and rushed at me.
A wave of furious chirping sped close, and I saw the Candied Wax Gourds use the enemy's inertia to knock him away.
They used their fragile bodies to guard me. I knew I should've stood my ground and kept fighting, but they protected me as we broke through the enemy ranks until I had retreated to a safe area.
Attendant's war horse leapt in front of me.
*It's no use, coward.*
His silence spoke volumes, hitting me like a whip on the spine on every sleepless night thereafter.
...As frail as I was.
All I could do was hide behind others in order to survive.
Bone-chilling sounds of slaughter rose up behind me, and I hugged tightly to the Candied Wax Gourds—my last source of comfort.
III. Awakening
After Abel's death, no one ever made any untoward jokes around me again.
And I never raised a weapon outside of the battlefield again either, to the point that new recruits who later joined the troop barely knew I existed.
But even though I was drifting through life, I still had to charge on the very front lines of the battlefield.
Because I was a Food Soul born for Attendant... I also had to die for Attendant.
I waited for this end to come.
In today's battle, the vanguard I was a part of got pinned down by an enemy attack.
I tried with all my might to protect my comrades around me, but they fell one by one nonetheless, their faces writ large with regret at their fate.
In the end, even I got surrounded, and didn't know in which direction to turn my sword.
The Candied Wax Gourds surrounding me let out an anxious chirp, and in the confused din, a sneering laugh clearly struck my ear.
I brushed aside the blood-matted hair from my eyes and saw a hateful-countenanced Fallen Angel standing on a slope far away firing an arrow at me like a shooting star.
It was an arrow of certain death.
...Will I die?
Yes, I will. And that's not so bad, right?
Isn't that the end I've been waiting for?
I let my weapon fall to the ground and placed a hand on my chest. My heartbeat felt even weaker.
I seemed to hear Abel's laugh again...
He was still asking me, what was I just standing there for?
...What's it to you!? Can't you just worry about your own problems?!
...Don't get distracted... because I'm frail and hesitant...
I mist clouded my vision, and a sob I could no longer hold back escaped my lips.
Until a familiar, furry outline pounced in front of me, blocking the fatal arrow.
My last resort, my most important companion creature—a Candied Wax Gourd fell to the ground, gasping its last.
Chirping. Sobbing.
*Thunk...*
*Thunk-thunk-thunk*—
What was this blocking out the sky and shrouding over me? What was that sound?
...Ah, it must be the war drums galloping in, signaling that the reinforcements were arriving soon.
I ought to have felt relief and retreat into a shell of safety like before, but why could I not steady my trembling voice, or control my arm swinging my weapon wildly? Why could I not stop fighting?
—Because if I didn't fight, then someone would spill their blood in vain on behalf of this sandbagging liability that was me!
In Attendant's stunned eye was reflected the image of me fighting like a berserker.
The sword blade cleared the fog, cleaving a line between the past I'd been carrying on my back and my future.
In battle, I had an awakening.
Don't let the rumors hold you down.
Everything breaks in the face of strength.
IV. Strength
After the Candied Wax Gourds recovered from their injuries sustained protecting me, I threw myself wholeheartedly into training. My eyes were locked practically day and night on the movable wooden post in the training ground that had been crudely carved into a human shape, until my weapons had become like extensions of my hands.
Attendant once came to the training ground to see me, probably the first such sign of courtesy he'd paid to me since I was summoned.
But he only stood mutely, then left.
I was happy all the same, pretending he didn't exist.
A dozen or so days later, Attendant led the army out again to suppress the Fallens. I stood at the head of the troop and drew my bow tight.
Today, I will prove myself and turn the tide of battle.
The vanguard I was in went on the offensive, routing the enemy army and saving Attendant while we were at it from an enemy trap he had impulsively fallen into.
After our victorious return, Attendant summoned me to his command tent.
This time, he wasn't sitting atop a horse, and he gestured for me to sit on a mat across from him. Then he ordered me to remove my mask and speak face-to-face.
Attendant stared at me without speaking for a long time, until a faint sigh expelled from his nose. The sound was so light, it didn't seem like it could come from such an imposing man's body.
But I derived a measure of gratification from it, and... regret.
"You and I are master and servant, so for you saving my life, we're even."
He spoke calmly.
From so close, I noticed that the creases of his face still held windblown sand brought back from the battlefield.
"—But I still wish to compensate you."
"Every loyal soldier is worthy of a reward."
"General, I..."
Although I had thoughts on my mind, I was a bit shy to express them.
"...I'll say it for you. I know this place is not where your heart lies."
Attendant laughed calmly, saying the words that were in my heart for me.
"If you want to get stronger, I do indeed have some ways."
"Then please, teach me, General!"
Attendant's attitude encourage me, and I no longer hesitated. I earnestly made my reply.
"Only by getting stronger can I protect my pets that I cherish so. Can I make sure the Candied Wax Gourds... don't get hurt on my account."
Attendant mulled in silence for some time, then suggested several people's names.
"—This is a little embarrassing, but I don't recognize one of them."
Attendant scratched his head, then pulled out a sheet of white paper from among the reports and grabbed a pen, dashing off several sentences with an unpracticed hand.
"These people are my old friends, all hermit masters now living in seclusion throughout the Light Kingdom. If you're willing, then take my calling card and pay a visit to them."
Early the next morning, I put together a pack with a few basic things and bid farewell to Attendant. Then I stepped for the first time inside of Amagi—the land that I and my comrades had spilled our blood to protect.
A long journey of training had begun.
It had begun...
...
"What do you think, Candied Wax Gourds? The General's not playing a trick on me, right...?"
With a straight face, I stood before a grass hut. I thought of that ragged-looking old man that made me visit this hut three times before he deigned to open the door, and the veins in my temples throbbed with delight.
"These so-called hermit masters really are odd fellows, aren't they?!!"
V. Sweetheart Cake
Sweetheart Cake once had illusions that a true person of strength should be like a stereotypical swordsman in a bamboo grove, dashing and swashbuckling and of extraordinary bearing, not like those army meatheads.
And the training that he was about to embark on should also be that life of intense devotion where one always had one's sword by one's side...
Imagination is lovely, but reality...
Sweetheart Cake stood at a roughly-hewn window, stewing in his juices, and he let out a roar.
"...What kind of master makes a guest visiting a place for the first time do housework, while they go out to drink and have fun!!!"
Several Candied Wax Gourds, who had just poked their heads around a corner to take a peek at him, now scattered in fear at his outburst. Meanwhile, an old man back from making the rounds let out a big laugh, raising a cloud of dust with his thickly-calloused feet.
"Anyone who wants to study with me won't have it so easy! First, get this house clean, then we'll talk. That is a challenge that is not up for discussion, whipper-snapper!"
Sweetheart Cake cracked his knuckles, then turned to look at the room piled with wine bottles and weapons of all shapes and sizes. A wave of anger welled up in him again, and steam practically fumed from his ears.
"...Just wait, you old fart—!!"
The Candied Wax Gourds carefully picked their way around the various objects on the ground and nuzzled against Sweetheart Cake's legs with their fuzzy bodies.
The fury that had been bouncing around in his chest just a second ago suddenly evaporated. Their presence seemed to remind Sweetheart Cake just at the right moment about why he was here.
He squatted down and patted his companions in resignation, putting aside his vitriol with a cold grunt.
"...When I've learned what I set out to, I will make sure to teach him a lesson!"
Then he let out a sigh and complacently tied on his apron, picking up a rag and a mop and stepping into the room like he was heading into a final showdown.
Let the great cleaning... begin!
...
When the floor was finally polished to such a shine that you could see your face in it, Sweetheart Cake plopped down on his rump and heaved a long sigh, so tired he didn't have the energy to complain about that old fart who was probably kicking back in a tavern somewhere.
"...You should know that learning martial arts is like this cleaning. There are rules to follow, and no shortcuts to take."
A slightly tipsy voice wafted overhead. Sweetheart Cake was too lazy to look up and could only let out a desultory grunt in response.
"Practitioners of martial arts must be able to keep their cool... in order to learn successfully."
"Therefore, training the mind also cultivates your art."
"Youngster, today you passed. Tomorrow, wake up early and make me breakfast, then go to the bamboo forest and first—first, run thirty laps!"
"Thirty laps?! Old man, do you think I'm a mule or a horse?!"
Having said his piece, the old man tottered off carrying a gourd of wine, leaving Sweetheart Cake to ponder in his haze about the significance of the old man's words. When he did, he shot upright, but all he could do was watch the old man walk away alone.
Sweetheart Cake chased after him with dogged persistence.
"Since I've already passed the test, please I beg you, teach me your martial art quickly. I need to become strong, to become... the strongest man in the Light Kingdom!!"
"Hee, if you want to become the strongest, you can't just talk the talk. Youngster, your mind isn't quiet enough yet. I punish you to latrine duty for one week!"
"What?! You old far—"
"Have you no respect! From now on, call me Master—"
At the time, Sweetheart Cake still didn't know that this lifelong journey of training had only just begun...