Aamon's Cleaver

He reopened his eyes on his soul sea's lush plain.

Instantly, they darted left and right in a frantic search to find the unwanted sword.

Before he could, ominous whispers filled his ears.

"You can enter your soul sea? Interesting."

He shot back through gritted teeth, masking his anger under a genuine tone.

"Where are you? I can show you an incredible place filled with mana. It's nearby. I'm sure you'll like it more than this huble plain."

His eyes narrowed in focus as dread's icy fingers caressed his spine.

Gaston's cursed eyes locked him in an endless battle that lasted for four years. And it was just a tier-two material. Unlike it, the great sword was a complete item of the seventh tier or higher!

Just the idea of having this ticking time bomb resting in him sent uncontrollable shivers course through his frame. But he wouldn't accept it.

"Easy, boy."

The sword's whispers reverberated again, insidious and... amused?