I Refused To Be Reincarnated

Chapter 412 Aamon's Cleaver

He reopened his eyes on his soul sea's lush plain.Instantly, they darted left and right in a frantic

Rank: T9 enigmatic Cursed weapon

Description: Forged in the scalding depth of the demon realm's fiercest mountain, this cleaver is the embodiment of fire. Ancient demonic engravings, hundreds of thousands of years old, run through the blade in an awe-inspiring network speaking of craftsmanship beyond conventional tiers.

Abilities:

Burning Cleave: Aamon's cleaver carves burning wounds. The fire cannot be extinguished by mundane means and will burn until only ashes remain.

Unholy Heat: Any creature in a five-meter radius enters the blade's territory. Scalding heat will assault them in a burning continuous flood if they are deemed enemies.

Searing Sundering: One per day, the wielder can channel demonic flame through the cleaver to deliver a world-ending strike. Magical protections and fortifications are as brittle as paper before Aamon's wrath, taking double the damage. However, the wielder will suffer from demonic contamination after using this ability.

In a gradual process, he'll become more prone to violence and cruelty until he transforms into a vile being.

Demonic Consumption: Aamon's cleaver hungers for life force. Upon slaying a creature, its soul is trapped within the weapon's gem, fueling its power. These souls can be released later to conduct dark rituals and increase the wielder's demonic energy permanently.

Unending Fury: The wielder can channel demonic energies through the cleaver, entering a state of Unending Fury for one minute. Consumed by rage, his strength increases by five hundred points. In this state, anything entering his vision is an enemy that must be cleaved in burning halves.

Cursed Weapon: A fragment of Aamon's soul is sealed within the red gem, making the weapon a living being and an avid enjoyer of violence and misery. Its abyssal whisper, promising strength and riches, will resound in the wielder's mind, slowly reshaping its moral values to turn it into an image of its creator.

"..."

The words weren't stuck in his throat. They just failed to form for five minutes.

'What kind of weapon is that?!'

Scalding fingers encroached on his soul in a terror he had never felt before. Everything in this weapon came at a cost. One he had no desire to pay.

Yet, his eyes lit up as an idea crossed his mind.

"Luna! Here, I offer you an amazing weapon. It's much better than the silver fruit tree. Take it."

Instantly, he eyed his interface note, waiting for an answer.

Note: Keep that horrible weapon for yourself. I don't want it!

"..."

Meanwhile, the cleaver trembled on the island, feeling prying eyes scan it as if its materials lay bare.