"Wings of War"
Marksman 
Church 
Full Moon 
P. DMG 
Light Current: Lv200 SS10
Gallery: Lv200 SS10 + Skills = 20,923 BP
Regal Treat
Holy Delicacy
Simple Meal
Afternoon of Leisure
Quantities shown are for reaching max rank (30)
Upon the carrier's death, all are converted into an equal number of Feathers of War for Seraphina, up to a maximum of 20 stacks.
Upon the carrier's death, all are converted into an equal number of Feathers of War for Seraphina, up to a maximum of 20 stacks.
CRIT Rate +6, CRIT DMG Up +8. Stacks up to 20 time(s).
CRIT Rate +6, CRIT DMG Up +8. Stacks up to 20 time(s).
DMG dealt by this Vassal varies with range. It increases by up to 50% at the farthest target while decreasing by up to 50% at the target nearby.
Upon the carrier's death, all are converted into an equal number of Feathers of War for Seraphina, up to a maximum of 20 stacks.
'When you lose, just lie still—there's no shame in it.'
As a weapon of the Church, Seraphina has undergone countless alterations, and that exceptional Silver Blood Ritual scoured away nearly all trace of her humanity.
Though she is ranked third in the Silver Cross, she remains dissatisfied with her rank. Even she cannot explain the origin of her relentless fixation on becoming the strongest, nor discern where such hunger will one day lead her.
As a living weapon forged through the Church's most advanced designs, Seraphina's prowess in battle is second to none. Yet within the Silver Cross, her lone-wolf temperament and disruptive methods make her a perpetual thorn in others' side.
Where others long for reliable allies, Seraphina hungers only for formidable foes.
Seraphina's origins remain a mystery.
From what little I uncovered, she was taken in by the Church as a child and shaped into a blade from her earliest days. The body given by her birth parents has long since been transformed through countless modifications into a mere instrument of slaughter.
For such a tool, ruin is not a possibility but an expectation, etched into its very being.
Thus, Seraphina's resolve to meet her end in battle cannot be measured by ordinary human thought.
In a sense, Seraphina has embraced humanity's eternal dream of flight—though the price has been grievous.
Whether it be the ruinous toll the ritual and modification have taken upon her lifespan, or the perilous combat missions she accepts, both stand as certain omens that her life will know no peaceful end.
Every bird is fated to fall.
If ruin is her destined end, then perhaps she yearns for that last battle—the one that will strip away all she has ever loved.
Perhaps I am beginning to truly grasp her hunger for victory, vast enough to eclipse all else...