100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 238

Chapter 238: Chapter 238 – Chamber of Silent Heart
Footsteps whispered through the vast library, soft as drifting feathers.

The Verdant Veil group turned.

Lythrae and the Lunareth practitioners had entered. Their expressions brightened with reverence the moment they beheld the hovering shelves and moonlit scrolls.

The Verdant Veil group welcomed them without hesitation.

The Lunareth Sect had long been their regular customers. More than that, friendship had formed between them over countless trade exchanges.

So when Lunareths stepped into the library, the group greeted them with genuine smiles as if welcoming familiar allies rather than competitors inside an Eternal’s domain.

Lucien and Marie exchanged polite smiles to them too.

Lythrae offered a graceful bow to them in return.

“Friends,” she greeted. “It seems we are alike.. those who value the revered Eternal’s wisdom over mere relics.”

Her gaze drifted fondly across the floating books.

“Seeing that you are still here,” she said with certainty, “confirms my suspicion. These texts cannot be taken beyond this chamber.”

A knowing pause followed.

“Quite natural. The revered Eternal was renowned for her devotion to knowledge. Her wisdom was meant to be preserved, not hoarded”

Then, she turned to her fellow disciples who were already awestruck by the levitating tomes.

“We shall remain here and archive what we can,” she instructed. “Let us record every page faithfully. Generations yet unborn will benefit from this.”

Her fellow disciples nodded.

Marie added with a mischievous but sincere smile:

“Just be careful. If your intent is impure, these books will curse you. I’m not exaggerating.”

Lythrae chuckled, unoffended.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Our sect pursues Stillness. Purity of mind is our foundation.”

…

Lucien let the moment breathe. They were nearly done recording all the books in the floating shelves.

Soon after, Eirene returned and Lucien instantly noticed the tension in her eyes.

She looked… disappointed. Almost wounded.

He turned fully toward her.

“Is something wrong?”

Eirene lowered her gaze.

“The thing I seek… is not here.”

Lucien frowned slightly. He didn’t know what she was searching for… only that the scent around her carried an edge of urgency he had never smelled from her before.

But she chose silence and he respected it.

Instead, he gestured toward a strange spot where the ambient light curled inward, pooling like liquid dawn around a carved pillar.

“I found something,” he said. “A sign hidden within the runes. It reads:

‘Follow the path of still breath

To reach the Chamber of Silent Heart.’

It seems this library connects to another wing. Maybe the answer you want lies there.”

Eirene stepped forward.

The runes along the far wall glowed faintly as she placed her palm against them.

Immediately, warmth pulsed beneath her fingertips.

Her eyes widened just slightly.

“They’re warm. Recently awakened,” she murmured. “The ruin’s mechanism responds to anyone interacting sincerely with its knowledge.”

Marie shuddered.

“Is it alive and judging us?” she muttered. “I hate that.”

Lucien nodded.

“This ruin reacts like a living thing.”

Eirene lifted her eyes.

“Follow the path of still breath

To reach the Chamber of Silent Heart.”

She repeated the lines and her expression tightened with concentration.

Marie whispered, keeping her voice low out of instinct,

“Still breath… like holding it? Or breathing really, really quietly?”

Lucien shook his head slightly.

“I… have no idea.”

Eirene’s eyes narrowed with sharper focus.

“A breath that moves without being heard,” she murmured. “A breath that doesn’t ripple the air… A breath gentle enough that even Stillness itself cannot sense it.”

Just as her words faded—

The runes around the inscription pulsed.

Light flowed from the engraved symbols like dew condensing on stone.

And then—

Faint white motes emerged, drifting into the air like tiny stars shaken loose from moonlight.

They trembled, sensing the presence of the group.

Eirene’s eyes lit up.

She took a single step forward… and exhaled softly.

Not a blow. Not even a whisper. Just the ghost of a breath.

The motes twirled… then drifted right.

Marie’s jaw dropped. “Wait… did they just move for her?”

Eirene blew again, gentler… barely disturbing the world.

This time, the motes veered left.

Lucien exhaled slowly.

“It’s not reacting to wind… It’s reacting to disturbance. The motes are showing the direction where breath creates the least disruption.”

Marie blinked.

“A breath that doesn’t disturb stillness…? That’s… oddly poetic.”

The Verdant Veil disciples gathered behind them, finally understanding.

Eirene inhaled delicately and let out another soft breath, so faint even Lucien’s sharp hearing couldn’t catch it.

The motes shimmered and moved like a drifting river of light.

Eirene moved.

Her steps were silent and her breath was almost nonexistent.

The others imitated her. Slow, controlled inhalations and careful exhalations.

Whenever someone’s breath quivered too sharply…

The light motes flickered red, jittering in agitation.

Lucien would raise a hand sharply, signaling them to regain composure.

Whenever their breathing aligned with Stillness—

The motes glowed pale blue, spreading apart like a curtain of morning frost.

And so, in absolute quiet…

Step by silent step…

They advanced deeper in the vast library.

Until—

The motes drifted straight into what appeared to be a solid wall.

Marie squinted.

“…A hidden passage?”

She kept her excitement strangled to a whisper, practically vibrating.

Lucien reached out to touch it—

His fingers met absolute resistance. It was cold and dense. Stillness condensed into a barrier.

Everyone tried the same, with equal failure.

Only then did realization dawn on them.

The Path of Still Breath wasn’t only guidance… it was the key.

Eirene centered herself, allowing her breath to soften until it was barely alive.

Her aura tightened.

Her steps slowed.

She placed her hand against the wall of Stillness—

And her palm slipped through.

She vanished beyond the veil like ink dissolving underwater.

Lucien followed.

He adjusted his breathing, forcing his heartbeat to steady…

The wall melted around his arm, letting him pass through like drifting fog.

One by one, the Verdant Veil disciples attempted the same.

Those who panicked or who breathed too sharply were rejected outright, rebounding off the veil like a wall of cold stone.

Only when they calmed themselves… Only when they matched the quiet pulse of the ruin… did the wall allow them entry.

Finally… all who could control their breath slipped through. All who could not… stayed outside until they mastered it.

And so—

The Verdant Veil left the Lunareth Sect in peaceful study…

…and stepped deeper into the still-lit halls of the Eternal’s abode.

Toward the Chamber of Silent Heart.

•••

The moment they slipped through the wall—

the world fell into absolute silence.

Sound did not fade. It ceased.

Silence did not fall. It devoured.

Marie’s eyes flew open in alarm. Her mouth formed a gasp but not even the shape of breath emerged.

Lucien tapped his chest, took a step, even stomped once…

Not even a hint of vibration formed.

The Chamber of Silent Heart tolerated no sound, no echo, no trace of noise.

It was silence in its purest, law-bound form.

A pressure settled against their ears. It was soft yet absolute… like sinking beneath a serene, bottomless lake.

The group’s heartbeat quickened, yet even that made no sound.

They steadied themselves and looked around.

The chamber was cathedral-like, carved with the meticulous tenderness of a goddess shaping moonlight.

Walls shimmered with silver-white feminine motifs with gentle curves, feathered patterns, and crescent sigils woven into stone as if serenity itself had been sculpted into existence.

Floating pedestals drifted like anchored stars. Each held priceless treasures:

Scrolls wrapped in moonlit ribbon

Stone tablets etched in dense ancient runes

Crystalline memory fragments pulsing like bottled dawn

Formation diagrams annotated by hand, unmistakably the work of an Eternal

Even the air felt hallowed as though they had stepped into the quiet breath between an immortal’s thoughts.

Eirene froze mid-step.

Her eyes trembled just once, faint as the flick of a candle wick… but Lucien saw it.

Whatever she sought… might just be here.

But she didn’t rush. She didn’t even reach out.

With composure, she lifted a hand and gestured for Lucien to follow.

They approached a vast wall carved with spiraling ancient runes. The engravings pulsed faintly as if aware of their presence.

Lucien leaned in and read silently.

[ Speak no truth,

For truth carries sound.

Write no falsehood,

For falsehood weighs heavy.

Only the quiet mind

May open the Heart of Silence. ]

Marie stared helplessly at the script. Her lips tightened, then shot Lucien a look that clearly meant: “I have absolutely no idea what any of that means.”

Lucien tapped Eirene’s shoulder.

Riddles.

His gesture said everything.

Eirene’s nod was crisp.

She led them to a pedestal marked with a sigil. A crescent entwined with a feather.

Hovering above it was a fragment—

A crescent-shaped shard of condensed Stillness Law, glowing like a sliver of polished moon-ice.

Lucien leaned a fraction closer…

…and jerked back when a ripple of silent pressure brushed his skin.

It was not hostile, but… judging.

Runes flared to life at the pedestal’s base.

[ The Key of Silence

Accepts not power, nor wealth,

But comprehension. ]

Eirene’s gaze sharpened instantly.

She swept her eyes across the chamber until her attention landed on a cluster of floating scrolls bound with silver thread.

Lucien joined her in reading the texts rapidly.

Meditations on emotional stillness…

Treatises on conceptual balance…

Dialogues penned by the Eternal…

Notes on grief, serenity, detachment…

Observations on the weight of choices…

Marie mouthed something that looked very much like ‘Great, more homework,’ but of course, the chamber devoured her complaint before it could be born.

Eirene’s hand trembled.

She pointed to a trio of runes shaped like a curved constellation.

Lucien read the new passage:

[ Three thoughts bind the Heart.

Choose not one,

For choice betrays balance.

Only in harmony

May silence open. ]

The meaning clicked instantly.

Across the chamber, three pedestals ignited with pale light.

One radiated the runes of Grief

One glowed with Detachment

The last breathed Serenity

Marie mouthed, “Which one?” with a helpless shrug.

Lucien lifted his hand.

He drew an invisible line in the air.

Not one.

All three.

Balanced.

Eirene nodded with a smile.

That was the answer.

Understanding rippled through the group.

Then… they moved.