[Item Na: Ever-Changing Robe!]
[Item Level: Gold!]
[Made from special materials, one of a kind in the world!]
[Special Effect 1: Ever-Changing Style - This item can change its appearance according to its owner’s wishes!]
[Special Effect 2: Immaculate - This item will not be stained by any dirt and will always look brand new!]
[Special Effect 3: Magic Resistance - This item has resistance to all attack spells, currently at 50% resistance!]
[Special Effect 4: All-Encompassing - This item can absorb various energies, increasing its special effects!]
[Added Special Effect 1: Magic Robe - The item has a Shield Charm, increasing its ability to absorb the host’s magic. The host can infuse magic to enhance the Shield Charm’s defensive capabilities!]
Erwin examined his new robe, his eyes lingering on the third and fourth effects. The first two were familiar perks he already enjoyed. But this upgraded resistance—jumping from 30% to 50%—ant anyone casting at him would see their spells halved in power right out of the gate.
Half. A straight percentage cut. The mightier the opponent, the harder they fell. Take Dumbledore: if the old wizard unleashed a Reducto at full force, say 100 units of raw power, it’d hit Erwin like a feeble 50. Percentages were brutal that way—no flat reduction, just pure scaling devastation. Low-tier duels? Beneath him now. "Dumbledore," Erwin muttered with a grin, "fancy a friendly spar?"
The fourth effect puzzled him more. Absorb any energy and evolve new traits? Paired with the Shield Charm, it now drew on his own magic for extra defense. But what other energies lurked in this world?
His gaze sharpened. He pulled the Death’s Token from his enchanted ring. It was still bone-chilling, radiating that familiar icy dread. Could the robe handle this?
The System hadn’t bothered with instructions, so Erwin improvised the straightforward way. With a thought, his robe shifted into a simple towel. He wrapped the token tightly and waited, staring intently.
Seconds ticked by. Half a minute. Nothing.
Erwin scowled. Faulty gear from the System? Unlikely.
Then it hit—a sudden burst of frigid aura exploded from the token. But before it could spread, the towel-form robe clamped down, sealing it inside. The chill coalesced, solidifying into sothing tangible, then shattered under the fabric’s relentless pull, absorbed completely.
In a blur, the robe reverted to its proper form and draped over Erwin’s shoulders. The token clattered to the floor, inert.
Erwin barely registered the sound. He yanked open the robe’s status panel.
...
[Added Effect 1: Death’s Robe. Absorbs a trace of Death’s power, granting the user a fragnt of its authority. The host can briefly summon souls from the underworld!]
Joy surged through him. This was gold—pure, otherworldly power. Divine, even. His mind raced straight to Lily, summoning her shade to confront Snape. Not out of malice, but to force that long-overdue apology. Erwin knew his godfather’s tornt all too well. The Half-Blood Prince’s lifelong lancholy stemd from her, a martyr for love trapped in endless regret. Snape’s guilt over her death had poisoned his every day. Erwin owed the man; kindness begat kindness. It was mutual.
He itched to test it right then, to break the news if it worked. But the System chid in.
[Warning, host: Your actions border on usurping divine authority. Use sparingly—at least three months between activations—to avoid drawing Death’s scrutiny. Rember: Those who ddle with souls invite their own end. Proceed with extre caution!]
The final warning blazed in blood-red letters, stark and urgent. The System rarely sounded alarms like this. Whatever he’d tapped into was no joke.
Erwin reined in his excitent. No rash experints. He’d head straight to Snape; if the ability held up, the risk was worth it. Death’s gaze? He’d dodge it where he could. But for his godfather, one gamble was fine—just once.
He’d already broached resurrecting Lily with Death, and the entity had consented, price pending. If it demanded Dumbledore’s soul as collateral, Erwin wouldn’t flinch.
Decision made, he scooped up the token. It was cooler now, the dread muted. Back into the ring it went, earmarked for future upgrades.
Then his hand froze mid-motion. Hold on—this didn’t add up. Stealing a god’s power so effortlessly? Even for a freshly gilded item? Death’s Token had to rank legendary at minimum, rainbow-gold tier. Sothing slled off.
The System pinged again.
[Please select a target for the item upgrade card!]
Erwin tossed the card onto his bed and fixed an imaginary point in the air. "System, hold up. You’re rushing this. What’s really going on here?"
...
Thanks for the incredible support to reach this milestone. Enjoy the read, and let’s get started on the next goal imdiately!
Power Stones:[109]/300
5 Star Reviews: [6]/10
— MrGrim
Reviews
All reviews (0)