100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 235

Chapter 235: Chapter 235 – Offerings
The group returned to the temporary settlement. Fires flickered softly in the dusk and the survivors had finally begun settling into the earthen shelters Marie built earlier.

Sahrin, the mortal woman, bowed to the group before slipping away to rejoin her younger brother, Khasari.

Lucien watched her retreating figure before shifting his gaze across the settlement.

The Desert Folk Race was a striking sight up close.

Their skin was dark and grain-flecked like weathered stone. Their bodies are lean and long-limbed, built for heat and endurance.

Around their arms and backs curled faint dune-patterns that shifted faintly like living ink. In truth, these patterns could be peeled away and used as tools or weapons.

Even their steps were unnaturally light. They barely left footprints on the sand at all.

The Celestial Proxy began to move among them, asking soft questions with a calmness that invited trust.

He listened to their broken recollections. He pieced their memories together.

And gradually… an outline emerged.

The ruin responded to one thing.

Offering.

An elderly man leaning against an earthen wall spoke when Lucien approached.

“When we brought offerings to the altar,” the old man rasped, “the winds would respond. Our wells would deepen. The desert… breathed again.”

His wife nodded weakly.

“But only when the offering had weight,” she whispered. “Food? Nothing. Trinkets? No reaction. But once… when a woman offered her family heirloom to save her dying child… the air shimmered. She said she felt… seen. As though something listened.”

Another survivor added hoarsely, “Our ancestors treated that altar as a god. You offer sincerity… and sometimes the desert answers.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes.

Meaning, not price.

Intent, not wealth.

Marie leaned close.

“So the ruin… wants tribute?”

Lucien murmured, “Or acknowledgment.”

Arctyx folded his arms, voice low.

“Stillness favors balance. The weight of intent may be what it recognizes.”

Lythrae gave a sharp nod.

“It aligns perfectly. Stillness rejects vanity. It answers only to what has genuine internal weight.”

Someone muttered, “So we must… feed the altar?”

Lucien shrugged.

“Better than feeding it corpses.”

•••

The sun bled crimson across the horizon.

As shadows lengthened, countless silhouettes appeared. Thousands of practitioners arrived. The rest of the expedition… had finally reached the boundary.

The female Celestial Race proxy led the group gracefully.

The male proxy stepped forward to greet her, giving a precise, clipped report about what happend earlier.

The petrified dunes. The crystallized weapons. The suffocating Stillness density. And the testimonies of the survivors.

Her eyes narrowed.

“This ruin behaves like an awakened consciousness.”

The gathered groups exchanged uneasy murmurs.

Lucien’s gaze drifted… landing squarely on the Nephralis and Varkhaal delegations.

When they heard the Celestial’s report, their expressions twisted… in what seemed like amusement.

As if pleased by the chaos they had sown.

Marie’s jaw clenched so hard her teeth ground audibly.

“Those ugly bastards…” she hissed.

Lucien exhaled. “It confirms everything.”

“They caused this mess,” Marie muttered. “I swear, if they smirk any harder, I’ll bury them myself.”

Lucien gave her a calming tap. “Later.”

•••

All parties gathered around the proxies.

Tension crackled like static. Fear, greed, curiosity, ambition… all swirled under the desert’s silent gaze.

The female proxy raised her voice.

“You have all seen the horizon. The crystallization marks the boundary. The ruin is refusing to reveal its entrance… because it is not being acknowledged.”

She gestured to the Desert Folk behind them.

“These people lived closest to the altar. Their memories will serve as our guide.”

Sahrin stepped forward and repeated the testimonies.

“When we offered something precious,” she explained, “the desert responded. But only when the offering carried weight, sincerity, and meaning.”

A shockwave of murmurs swept through the practitioners.

“A test?”

“A requirement?”

“Is the ruin… judging us?”

Lythrae stepped into the moonlight. Her voice was calm and chilling.

“The revered Eternal of Stillness does not accept empty gestures. She accepts equilibrium. What you offer must equal the weight of what you seek.”

Arctyx added,

“Stillness despises disturbance. Perhaps the offering is… an exchange. Peace for passage.”

Lilith arched a brow. “So the ruin wants something with soul behind it.”

Lucien exhaled thoughtfully.

“It fits.”

Marie blinked. “WHAT part fits that?”

Lucien explained,

“Stillness rejects disturbance. If we want to enter something that hates disturbance, the only logical method is to create an equivalent exchange. Offer something of value to balance the disruption we cause.”

Eirene nodded slowly.

“An offering not to bribe, but to justify our intrusion.”

The male Celestial Proxy smiled faintly.

“Correct. Stillness respects reason. Present something meaningful… and it may tolerate our approach.”

The female proxy raised her hand.

“All chosen participants will approach the altar. Each may offer one thing.”

•••

Night fell.

The moon hung high, casting ghostly light across the petrified horizon.

The practitioners formed long, solemn lines near the edge of the settlement.

Across the dunes, the crystallized war remnants glowed faintly as if lit from within.

The air vibrated with a pressure that wasn’t sound.

Sahrin pointed to the horizon.

“There… beyond that ridge. That is where our sacred altar stands.”

All eyes turned toward the dark ridge.

A single stone obelisk pierced the crystallized sands like a lone fang.

Still. Cold. Ancient.

As if waiting.

The female Celestial Proxy lifted her voice.

“You are granted this night to choose what you deem worthy. At dawn, all offerings will be placed before the altar.”

Lucien exhaled slowly.

Marie cracked her knuckles.

Eirene clutched her pendant. Her expression was uncharacteristically solemn.

Arctyx’s third eye glimmered faintly.

And among the crowd…

The Nephralis and Varkhaal smirked.

But this time… Lucien smirked back.

Because if the ruin judged sincerity… they would be the first to be rejected.

The desert wind didn’t blow.

But something unseen stirred… As if the Ruin of Stillness itself had turned its gaze toward the offering grounds.

•••

Lucien told Sahrin to return to the settlement and handed her several magic bags filled with restorative drops.

She accepted them with both hands and hurried back to her brother.

As she disappeared into the growing dusk, the gathered practitioners fell into deep contemplation.

The air hummed with tension. Anticipation mingled with uncertainty.

That was when a faint pulse of light flickered against Eirene’s chest. It was subtle like a heartbeat of clarity.

Her brow tensed and her gaze focused forward as if she were solving a complex riddle written on the air.

Then—

Her eyes suddenly brightened.

Lucien noticed instantly.

“Did you figure out something?”

Eirene turned toward him.

“Brother Luc… I discovered what offering will work.”

Lucien straightened.

Marie actually leaned in.

Eirene smiled, amused by their eagerness.

Marie groaned dramatically.

“Please stop with the suspense already — what is it?”

Eirene finally answered.

“The Slime Plushies.”

Lucien blinked.

Marie blinked.

“…Sorry, what?” Marie whispered. “Those?”

Eirene nodded firmly.

“The ruin values sincerity, tranquility, and balanced intent. Out of everything we possess… nothing radiates harmlessness, comfort, and peaceful energy more than the Slime Plushies. If the ruin is indeed watching, these are the offerings it will accept.”

Lucien’s eyes widened with a dawning grin.

Marie slapped her forehead.

“Of course! Even the Lunareth Sect adored those things! They practice Stillness — no wonder they resonated!”

Lucien immediately reached into his Inventory, pulling out a stack of Slime Plushies.

“I should’ve realized this sooner… Still, this is unexpected.”

He began distributing them. First to Eirene, then to the Verdant Veil members.

Marie tugged on his sleeve.

“Luc… where’s mine?”

“You already have one.”

“That was MONTHS ago. It’s basically an antique now!”

Lucien groaned as she poked his ribs repeatedly.

“Fine! Fine! For the love of Stillness, take another one — before your nagging disturbs the ruin!”

Marie beamed triumphantly, hugging the plushie like a priceless heirloom.

Then—

A polite cough.

“Ahem.”

Vorren (the shaved-head “traitor”) approached with surprising solemnity.

He bowed slightly.

“Brother Wolf. My Opportunity Cull is… resonating. Strongly. May I request two plushies? One for myself, and one for my partner.”

Lucien raised a brow.

“And what will you offer in exchange?”

Without hesitation, Vorren produced a storage ring.

“I’m not sure if this is worthy… but everything inside holds value. There are also many Spirit Crystals.”

Lucien inspected the contents.

Valuable indeed.

He nodded.

“Fair trade.”

Vorren accepted the plushies as though accepting destiny itself.

“This will work,” he murmured. “None of my belongings reacted… except these.”

His words did not go unnoticed.

The Lunareth Sect disciples froze.

They each already owned multiple plushies. Some had hoarded entire batches through Murak and Eirene.

Their faces twisted in emotional agony.

Lythrae sighed dramatically.

“Well… we did hoard thousands.”

Another disciple groaned, “Stillness preserve me… how do we choose which one to part with?”

“Pick the one that hurts least,” a third said with a perfectly straight face.

Lythrae rolled her eyes.

“Oh, relax. If the Junior Wolf survives, we can always buy more.”

Eirene covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.