Nier Replicant ver.122(US) Strategy Guide Walkthrough/PS4EPS5EPC


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Faith

This page explained in detail about  Faith of One-Handed Swords.

Here are how to get it, upgrade materials, weapon stories, etc.


How to obtain

Forest of Myth(Child)
The Aerie(Adult)

Lv.1

Attack Power 147
Magic Power +20%
Weight Very Light

There was once a famous poet in a land to the far, far east. Now in his twilight years, his ability had withered such that he could no longer craft a single stanza or verse.

The poor poet spent every moment wracked with sorrow for what had been lost\but one day, a monk appeared by his side, gently placed a blade in his hand, and imparted the following words:

Lv.2

Materials Silver Ore~3
Broken Antenna~30
Attack Power 189
Magic Power +30%
Weight Light

"Kill one by this blade for one poem, and two for two in kind; the likes of which will be more splendid than any this world has ever heard."

Clinging to the monk's words, the man waited for the cover of darkness and cut down a man he encountered by the roadside. The following day, he wrote a most beautiful poem, instantly reclaiming the fame and prosperity he had lost.

Lv.3

Materials Silver Ore~5
Elaborate Machine~1
Natural Rubber~1
Attack Power 240
Magic Power +40%
Weight Light

The poet went on to kill two in succession. He killed one and wrote a poem, then killed again and wrote another, rising to almost dazzling levels of wealth and renown. But soon, he became obsessed with knowing how splendid a poem he might write if he were to kill someone precious to him.

Lv.4

Materials Silver Ore~4
Moldavite~1
Titanium Alloy~1
Attack Power 266
Magic Power +50%
Weight Moderate

He killed his wife and wrote a poem. He killed his children and wrote a poem for each. He moved through his estate killing everyone there, writing and writing and writing and writing and writing.

Eventually, he killed so many passers-by that the poems could not keep up. He would kill and write, then kill and kill and kill and kill until in the end he took his own life, no longer crafting poems at all. All that remained was a blade wet with blood.

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