100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 239

Chapter 239: Chapter 239 – Grief, Detachment, Serenity
The moment they drew near, the three pedestals sharpened their glow as though ancient eyes flickered awake.

Grief.

Detachment.

Serenity.

Each pedestal radiated an emotional gravity so profound that simply standing before them thickened the air. They pressed against their lungs, demanding acknowledgment.

Lucien inhaled slowly.

He remembered the scrolls they skimmed earlier… the Eternal’s private notes etched in silver ink:

“Grief anchors the heart.

Detachment frees the mind.

Serenity steadies the soul.

Only in balance may Stillness breathe.”

Those words burned in his thoughts.

This was no riddle.

This was a psychological crucible crafted by an Eternal who understood that Stillness was not merely silence…

It was mastery over one’s inner world.

Eirene pointed toward the pedestal of Grief. Her eyes were calm but resolute.

Lucien nodded and pointed at Detachment. There was no hesitation in him.

Then came the question of Serenity.

Lucien and Eirene scanned their group.

They needed someone who could bend but not break.

Someone who could find serenity in chaos.

Lucien’s gaze landed on Marie who was scratching her head and fidgeting.

Most would say she was the worst choice.

Lucien disagreed.

She survived a full year underground, alone.

She laughed through danger.

She found light in ruin.

Her spirit was vibrant but unyielding.

And the notes from the Eternal echoed again in his mind.

[ Serenity is not the absence of storms.

It is the will that keeps the storm from steering you. ]

Lucien pointed at Marie.

Marie blinked.

‘Me?’

Eirene read the meaning in Lucien’s eyes and smiled faintly.

She trusted his judgment, fully.

Marie, still confused but determined, nodded.

She stepped towards the pedestal of Serenity.

As soon as the three made contact…

The pedestals locked them in place.

An invisible force gripped their bodies, anchoring their feet to the stone.

Behind them, the Verdant Veil disciples stiffened in alarm.

Should they intervene?

Was this some trap?

The two Celestial-realm seniors took a decisive step forward. Their aura rose, prepared to rip the trial apart if needed.

But then—

Eirene lifted one hand.

A soft, deliberate gesture.

Her calm eyes said without words:

Trust me.

The two froze.

Slowly, they retreated to a standby position. They are still tense but they respected her assurance.

Everyone realized, what this test truly was:

It is not a puzzle. Not a trap. Not a ritual.

But a trial of being.

A test forged by an Eternal who judged the heart more sharply than any blade.

And then—

Their hands touched the runes… and the world shattered inward.

•••

Cold.

Not the cold of flesh but the cold that lives in memories one refuses to remember.

The chamber dissolved around Eirene.

Moonlight fractured into shards.

The world re-formed as a wasteland of ash and pale ruins. It’s a place that did not exist in the outside world anymore… yet lived with perfect accuracy in the chambers of her heart.

It was the memory she had entombed in silence.

Before her, the scene unfolded with merciless clarity.

She stood alone in the middle of a collapsed hall. Moonlight spilled across broken pillars as if the heavens themselves were reluctant to touch the memory.

At the center of the ruin knelt her past self?

It was her… but she also doesn’t look like the current her.

Her shoulders were shaking, cradling something gently… enough that grief itself seemed to hold its breath.

The present Eirene did not approach.

She did not reach out.

She did not cry.

She simply trembled.

Because grief, true grief, is not the wound… It is the echo that never leaves.

It is the truth that endures even when acceptance fails.

The rune’s domain pressed in on her, an invisible gravity, a philosophical weight:

“That which you love defines you.

That which you lose tests you.

What remains… reveals you.”

Her knees nearly buckled.

Pain would have been easier. Pain is clean. Pain is simple.

Grief was neither.

Grief was a presence. A silent companion gripping the back of her neck, whispering its cruel invitations.

“Surrender.”

“Collapse.”

“Let this be the end of you.”

Her breath shook.

Her world blurred.

The Verdant Veil disciples outside the illusion stiffened, seeing her posture falter.

One stepped forward instinctively…

…but the Celestial Realm senior seized his arm.

His eyes said sharply:

Let her stand. Or let her fall on her own terms.

Inside the trial, the memory tightened its claws.

The Eirene in the vision whispered something.

A soundless confession the outside world could not hear… and the present Eirene felt the words inside her bones.

The weight crushed lower.

For a moment… she did begin to break.

But then—

Her hand closed.

She placed that grief where it belonged.

Not erased, not overcome, but integrated.

There was no victory cry.

No dramatic defiance.

Only a simple, resolute truth.

Grief is the proof of love.

And love is not something she would ever abandon.

Her spine straightened.

Her breath steadied.

Her eyes trembled but no longer bowing.

And in that acceptance—

A soft silver light bloomed beneath her pedestal.

Not bright. Not triumphant.

But quiet.

As grief should be.

Eirene endured.

Grief did not leave her.

But grief no longer ruled her.

•••

The world thinned around Lucien.

Thinned, like reality being pared away with surgical precision.

Color bled out first, dissolving into muted greys.

Then warmth seeped from his skin.

Sound, emotion, intent, every layer of being… peeled away until Lucien stood in a world that resembled an empty canvas before creation.

A void of absolute neutrality.

Detachment whispered to him, not as a voice, but as a philosophy given form:

Let go.

Everything you value is transient.

Release it, and you will never be hurt again.

Lucien inhaled and the air did not move.

He looked around.

There were silhouettes of his important people. His family, his subjects, his friends.

But they blurred like half-remembered dreams. Their faces lost detail. Their presence lost meaning.

His heartbeat slowed.

His memories dimmed.

The pedestal beneath him pulsed.

It didn’t crush him like Grief. It didn’t shake him like Serenity’s chaos.

Detachment simply… unmade him.

One thought drifted into his mind.

“What would change if I felt nothing?”

His fingers loosened.

His posture slackened.

A hollow chill slid into his chest.

Indifference.

Perfect, painless indifference.

The most dangerous kind.

His consciousness hovered at the edge of surrender…

…until a faint flicker sparked at the corner of his fading awareness.

Faces.

Soft at first, then sharper.

Luke and Cienna.

Vivian.

His subjects.

His friends.

Responsibilities. Choices he made. Lives tied to his own.

The grey void tried to swallow and reduce them to meaningless shapes… but the moment they surfaced, something inside Lucien tightened.

A thought cut through the numbness like a blade of light.

‘If nothing matters, then those I vowed to protect vanish with me.’

These memories didn’t appear as emotion.

Emotion was gone.

They appeared as choices.

Deliberate choices he made when he cared.

And suddenly, a realization crystallized in the hollow of his chest…

Detachment is not the absence of emotion.

It is the discipline to not be ruled by it.

He did not fight the void.

He did not cling desperately to what he felt.

Lucien simply placed his emotions where they belonged.

Not erased, not suppressed, but arranged.

Like tools on a bench. Like books on a shelf.

Still present. Still his. Simply… quiet.

Something formed in him.

“Detachment is the lens, not the blindness.”

“Emotion is the weight, clarity is the grip.”

The void wavered.

A ripple spread across the grey as though the world itself blinked.

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

The silhouettes of his important people regained its brilliance. Not in color but in meaning.

He had not lost himself.

He had defined himself.

The pedestal beneath him shone softly but with a refined, perfectly controlled glow.

A second pillar of silver rose to meet Eirene’s.

Outside the pedestal, the Verdant Veil members watched silently with relief in their eyes.

Lucien stood tall.

He had passed the Trial of Detachment—

not by severing himself from the world…

…but by choosing which parts of himself remained unshaken.

•••

Chaos hit Marie like a tidal wave.

The silent world folded inward and her mind exploded into motion.

Images flashed like lightning.

Lucien scolding her—

A slime plushie squished flat—

A cat wearing armor—

A marketplace erupting—

A fire that she couldn’t remember starting—

One whole year alone—

A skyship spiraling into the clouds—

Eirene glowing like a moonlit statue—

Her panic—

Her panic—

Her panic—

It felt as if her thoughts were knives, carving at her from the inside.

Serenity was not peace.

It was mastery.

But Marie’s nature was a wildfire. It’s bright, loud, and unrestrained.

A personality made of sparks and impulsiveness.

Everything Serenity opposed.

The more she tried to still her mind…

The more violently it shook.

Her knees buckled against the pedestal.

She clutched her head as the whirlwind tightened.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest…

—but the chamber allowed no sound.

Even her panic was mute.

For the first time in her life, Marie realized:

Silence could be terrifying.

Her thoughts screamed against the imposed quiet, thrashing like trapped animals.

“I can’t—”

was the thought that rose…

…until another memory surfaced.

Lucien, earlier, tapping his chest, pointing at the pedestals, then at her.

A single gesture.

Trust.

Marie froze.

She decided not to fight the emotion. Not force it away. Not pretend to be calm.

To become the emotion’s master. Not its prisoner.

A slow breath left her chest.

She remembered the year she spent underground.

Not the fear…

But the moment she survived from the ugly enemies just as she arrived in this unfamiliar world.

She remembered discovering that if she didn’t stay calm…

She would die.

Serenity wasn’t about silencing the storm.

It was about knowing you could drown in it… and choosing to float anyway.

Marie shut her eyes.

She imagined her mind as a lake.

Not perfect. Not still by force.

Just… allowed to settle.

The waves slowed. The chaos softened.

The swarm of thoughts spread out like petals drifting on water.

Her heart stopped thrashing.

A single breath guided it back into orbit.

Calm was no longer the absence of noise.

Calm became her choice.

And in that instant—

Serenity blossomed beneath her feet.

Not a timid glow.

A radiant silver bloom like moonlight flowering on still waters.

Behind her, the Verdant Veil seniors widened their eyes.

They could not hear her trial… but they could see the transformation.

Marie now stood as steady as a tranquil moon.

••

The radiance from the three pedestals flared in perfect resonance.

And then—

Eirene, Lucien, and Marie opened their eyes.

They finally understood.

This was not a trial. Not a test of cruelty. Not even a barrier guarding a treasure.

It was a lesson.

An opportunity.

This chamber had given them something no relic ever could.

Wisdom carved into the bones of their spirit.

Balance etched into their thoughts.

And a resonance with Stillness that could not be stolen, faked, or purchased.