Weiss floated in front of Nier, pages flipping furiously. “Words! I need words! I can cast a barrier if you give me a concept !”
Nier shook his head, drew his one-handed sword—a simple, worn blade—and ran forward. He did not have magic. He had muscle memory and desperation. He ducked under a sweeping claw, rolled through a puddle of black ichor, and drove his sword into the central maw. NieR Replicant ver122474487139
Their village was a cluster of stone huts clinging to the side of a cliff, protected by a crumbling wall from the Shade-infested wastes beyond. Nier was not a farmer or a shepherd. He was a fetcher. A hunter. A killer of shadows. He did it for the only currency that mattered: gold to buy the lunar tear extracts that kept Yonha's coughing fits at bay. Weiss floated in front of Nier, pages flipping furiously