Disaster and Remorse
Stats
Lv.
90/90
Base ATK 674
CRIT Rate 22.1%
Weapon Effect
Dolorous Stroke
Dolorous Stroke
After the equipping character uses an Elemental Skill, they gain "Path of Conflict" for 17s, as well as "Unforgivable" and "Irreparable" for 3s each. This effect can trigger once every 18s.
Unforgivable: Increases the equipping character's Normal Attack and Charged Attack DMG by 40%.
Irreparable: Increases the equipping character's Elemental Skill and Elemental Burst DMG by 40%.
While Path of Conflict is in effect, when the equipping character hits an opponent with a Normal Attack or Charged Attack, Irreparable's duration will be increased by 1s. When the equipping character hits an opponent with their Elemental Skill or Elemental Burst, Unforgivable's duration will be increased by 1s. Each of the above effects can be triggered once every 0.1s. When Path of Conflict ends or the equipping character leaves the field, both Unforgivable and Irreparable will be removed.
Hexerei: Secret Rite: The above DMG boosts are increased by 75%.
Unforgivable: Increases the equipping character's Normal Attack and Charged Attack DMG by 40%.
Irreparable: Increases the equipping character's Elemental Skill and Elemental Burst DMG by 40%.
While Path of Conflict is in effect, when the equipping character hits an opponent with a Normal Attack or Charged Attack, Irreparable's duration will be increased by 1s. When the equipping character hits an opponent with their Elemental Skill or Elemental Burst, Unforgivable's duration will be increased by 1s. Each of the above effects can be triggered once every 0.1s. When Path of Conflict ends or the equipping character leaves the field, both Unforgivable and Irreparable will be removed.
Hexerei: Secret Rite: The above DMG boosts are increased by 75%.
Total Materials
Description
A polearm forged from Whitestone and Starsilver. Its keen point is constantly enveloped in a bone-piercing chill. In the moonless city of snow, the outlander warrior mourned a realm shattered, never to return. There, amidst the frost, he lay to rest in the ground a hope that would no longer bear fruit.
Leaving his unspoken longings alongside that lonely final mural, he began to wander the frozen plains, solitary and unmoored.
He believed that by casting his old greatsword into the deathly frost, he would be able to forget the weakness of days gone by,
throw himself into endless battle, and thus find solace and joy in the tang of iron and blood.
Yet, the warrior abandoned the hollow lie of his own despair at the very first moonfall after he left the great hall of that mountain country.
It was a fleeting moment of confusion and folly. All he wanted, by pure instinct, was to save the maiden under attack.
He never again wished to see a head of silver hair, or a face as bright as the moon, buried under all that ice and snow.
This was a man who believed he had long broken the oath of a warrior, and who wished to spill his blood in conflict merely as a means of diversion.
He launched the astral silver lance, yet untainted by crimson, into the black tide of beasts with all his might.
in a strike that generations of scholars and bards thereafter would grant the appellation "dolorous."
Ancient songs tell of an outlander who roamed the frozen plains and brought calamity to a land of peace.
They sing of the man who, for the sheer joy of conflict, drove a cold tip of astral silver through the wind and snow and shattered the snow-covered mountains,
and in so doing, leveled three thriving kingdoms and consigned vast lands to utter desolation, leaving multitudes to wander the wastes.
The cries of the innocent, mourning the calamity wrought by that single blow, could be heard everywhere.
But the song is but a song. Before the bloodbath around him could even become legend,
the outlander stood dazed amidst the ruins, seeing nothing but fragmented glimpses of wind and snow.
His wayward spear had pierced the stone that held up the earth,
And the maiden that he meant to protect, too, had perished in the billowing darkness.
The survivors of the ruined lands saw the man named Imunlaukr as the sworn enemy of their fallen peoples,
hunting him without end.
For the warrior who claimed a craving to entertain the gods with strains of strife and blood,
The warrior who sank into despair but refused to accept his fate and sought redemption, yet ended up bringing on even more grief and sorrow...
This was the very moment he finally ceased longing for salvation and turned away from the life of a warrior forever.
Leaving his unspoken longings alongside that lonely final mural, he began to wander the frozen plains, solitary and unmoored.
He believed that by casting his old greatsword into the deathly frost, he would be able to forget the weakness of days gone by,
throw himself into endless battle, and thus find solace and joy in the tang of iron and blood.
Yet, the warrior abandoned the hollow lie of his own despair at the very first moonfall after he left the great hall of that mountain country.
It was a fleeting moment of confusion and folly. All he wanted, by pure instinct, was to save the maiden under attack.
He never again wished to see a head of silver hair, or a face as bright as the moon, buried under all that ice and snow.
This was a man who believed he had long broken the oath of a warrior, and who wished to spill his blood in conflict merely as a means of diversion.
He launched the astral silver lance, yet untainted by crimson, into the black tide of beasts with all his might.
in a strike that generations of scholars and bards thereafter would grant the appellation "dolorous."
Ancient songs tell of an outlander who roamed the frozen plains and brought calamity to a land of peace.
They sing of the man who, for the sheer joy of conflict, drove a cold tip of astral silver through the wind and snow and shattered the snow-covered mountains,
and in so doing, leveled three thriving kingdoms and consigned vast lands to utter desolation, leaving multitudes to wander the wastes.
The cries of the innocent, mourning the calamity wrought by that single blow, could be heard everywhere.
But the song is but a song. Before the bloodbath around him could even become legend,
the outlander stood dazed amidst the ruins, seeing nothing but fragmented glimpses of wind and snow.
His wayward spear had pierced the stone that held up the earth,
And the maiden that he meant to protect, too, had perished in the billowing darkness.
The survivors of the ruined lands saw the man named Imunlaukr as the sworn enemy of their fallen peoples,
hunting him without end.
For the warrior who claimed a craving to entertain the gods with strains of strife and blood,
The warrior who sank into despair but refused to accept his fate and sought redemption, yet ended up bringing on even more grief and sorrow...
This was the very moment he finally ceased longing for salvation and turned away from the life of a warrior forever.