She is like a flower that blooms silently, silent and deep, hiding in the shadow of annihilation. Tsubaki is the silence in the center of the storm, the forbearance before the instantaneous explosion. Her power is not the noisy roar, but the vines that grow quietly in the middle of the night, stretching and invisible, but enough to entangle everything.
The numbers are just the cold outline of her body. 10325 life, 450 attack, 1161 defense, these data are like dry bark, covering the moist and complex lifeline inside. Her annihilation attribute is like the embers burning silently on the ruins, both soft and sharp.
The “Caichun” in her hand is a silent knife, with a restrained edge and shining with a cold light. It has no rapid rhythm, but every time it is swung, it cuts a crack in space and time. The superposition of critical hit rate and attack power is like a sophisticated ritual, slowly and irreversibly advancing fate.
Her attack rhythm is clear. The ordinary five-hit combo is like an orderly monologue, while the heavy attack and aerial skills are the rupture in the middle of the night. The vines stretch and retract like the rhythm of breathing, with a cold loneliness. Every attack and defense transition is an inner undercurrent, alienated and deadly.
The resonance loop “vegetative universe” is a reflection of her inner world. The alternating accumulation of red toon stamens and red toon buds is like the silent expectation and loss in life. The power released in the bud state is like the tenacity of the frozen buds in winter, silently accumulating the energy for an explosion.
The resonance skill of the day flower is blooming in loneliness, burning itself and illuminating the darkness. The changes in the action in the blooming state are like the reconstruction and rupture of memory, fragmented but closely connected. Evasion and counterattack are like a silent struggle, with a hidden edge in forbearance.
The ultimate move “Fang Hua Zhan Ashes” is a silent farewell and the afterglow after burning out. She completed her self-destruction in the damage and knockback, but seemed to be reborn in the withering, and the veins of life echoed in the annihilation.
The addition of the resonance chain and the energy recovery are like time slowly settling in her body. Her power is not violent, but continuous silence, an explosion in forbearance, and a lonely flower blooming in the middle of the night.
Chun is not the roar of the battlefield, she is the silent wind, the silent petals falling. Her attack is like a silent poem, long, profound, and with a cold beauty. She exists in the cracks of darkness, blooming in endless silence.