100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 248

Chapter 248: Chapter 248 – Choices
Silence struck harder than any explosion.

Raven lay collapsed on the silver stone. His breath-signature was erased as though the world itself refused to acknowledge he had ever breathed.

The Scarlet Senior Sister clutched him with trembling hands. Her voice cracked.

“Raven—please—RAVEN—!”

But the man did not stir.

The lake answered instead.

A deep, resonant thrum shook the entire terrace.

Lucien’s head snapped up.

Another spear of condensed breathe.

The lake’s surface contracted once more, forming a spiraling vortex of breath.

The factions froze in terror.

Lucien acted.

He hurled the Stygian Shell straight toward the lake.

He expanded the shield with his will.

The tortoise-shell shield obeyed his command like a living fortress.

It spread outward, unfolding into a massive dome that slammed down over the entire lake.

KANG—KANG—KANG—!!

Multiple impacts hammered it from below.

The Stygian Shell vibrated under the pressure, but held.

For now.

Yet everyone could feel it.

The ruin was not done.

The lake was not done.

Breath itself wanted them dead.

Lucien turned away from the trembling shell and hurried to Raven’s side.

He dropped to one knee beside the man.

Raven’s skin was pale.

His lips had lost all color.

His body no longer gave off the warm, subtle breath-rhythm that marked life.

The Scarlet Senior Sister clung to Lucien’s sleeve, her voice broke into pieces.

“You… you saved someone before… right? T-that mortal boy—y-you used a treasure—please, I’m begging you—anything—anything you have—please save him—please—!”

Her tears fell onto the still stone.

No one knew Lucien’s secrets. No one knew what he carried.

She was simply grasping for hope… hope shaped like a boy with a wolf’s eyes who always had a way.

Lucien looked at Raven.

A man he barely knew.

A man who stepped forward without hesitation.

A man who traded his breath for someone else’s life.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

“He is… a decent man,” he murmured under his breath.

Just as he had done earlier for the Verdant Veil practitioner who touched a breath-creature, Lucien immediately attempted to jump-start Raven’s body.

With Perfect Calculation guiding every motion, he manipulated Raven’s inner energies… what little remained… forcing the diaphragm and intercostal muscles to expand and contract.

One second… Two… Three…

Nothing.

Not even a twitch.

Every attempt slipped into a void as though Raven’s body itself refused the very concept of breathing.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

He exhaled slowly. A rare moment of helplessness shadowed his expression.

Behind him, the Scarlet Sect disciples trembled.

The senior sister’s voice broke as she clung to Raven’s unmoving form.

“No… please… please…”

Even members of other factions bowed their heads.

But Lucien did not let despair settle.

His eyes sharpened again.

“Not yet,” he said quietly. “I haven’t exhausted every method.”

He gently pried Raven from the senior sister’s grip.

“Leave his body here for now.”

Then Lucien extended his hand.

A shimmer of light unfurled…

And a Cryogenic Chamber materialized beside them, a drop from the Life Slime. It’s a device meant to suspend a dying body at the edge of life.

Gasps erupted around him.

“What is… this treasure?”

“Was he carrying a whole ruin in his sleeves?!”

Lucien ignored their shock. His focus was razor-thin.

He opened the chamber’s lid and lifted Raven inside with meticulous care.

The chamber sealed.

“His soul hasn’t left yet,” Lucien said. “This will hold him… for a while.”

The senior sister pressed a trembling palm against the glass.

Tears dripped onto the chamber.

“Thank you… please… please save him…”

Lucien didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he lowered himself into a cross-legged position before the chamber.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Inside his mind, Perfect Calculation stirred.

It unfolded possibilities like a thousand branching paths. Every outcome, every cost, every consequence laid bare.

Perfect Loop followed.

It spiraled through scenario after scenario, simulating futures at impossible speed.

But even with those skills working at full force…

Lucien’s heart was louder.

The very first loop pointed him toward the Revenant Asphodel.

Lucien’s expression darkened almost instantly.

“…It won’t work,” he whispered.

Even if it did, he would still hesitate.

He had set the Asphodel aside for his parents.

He intended to cultivate it within his divine energy core.

And more importantly—

The flower required refinement.

A process that took time they absolutely did not have.

Using it raw would be like pouring water onto a drowning man.

Meaningless.

Then—

Another path flashed within his thoughts.

The drops. The auto-collected loots that appeared the moment he had picked the Revenant Asphodel.

•••

Revenant Asphodel Drops

Tear of the Departed (Rare) — Stores a single soul-fragment. Can anchor a fading consciousness.

Seed of Reversion (Rare) — A seed capable of reverting a single part of the body to a previous state.

Petal of the Last Dawn (Epic) — Extends the lifespan of its consumer.

Echo Bloom (Legendary) — Absorbs the final “echo” of a dying breath, storing it until it can be replanted.

•••

Each one was priceless.

And each one carved a sharp image into Lucien’s mind.

Luke.

Cienna.

His parents.

The future he swore to protect.

He hated himself for the thought, but it rose anyway:

‘I can’t waste these.

Not here.

Not for someone I barely know.’

It was harsh. But it was the truth.

There were only two Revenant Asphodel blooms in here and the other had already been taken by the robed women.

Even if Lucien wanted more drops, he couldn’t get any.

‘There must be another way,’ he thought.

His jaw tightened.

His mind continued to race.

He refused to give up.

•••

Everyone stared at Lucien.

Eirene. Marie. The Verdant Veil members.

The Scarlet Sect disciples.

The Sskavyrn warriors.

Even the silent black-robed faction.

Every set of eyes held the same thing.

Hope.

Lucien remained still. His mind dove through thousands of branching outcomes at once.

Just then—

Something glimmered inside the depths of his mind.

One loot.

One skill.

Two impossibilities.

Lucien’s eyes snapped open.

“There… is something.”

His voice didn’t rise.

It didn’t crack.

But it cut through the silence like a blade slicing fate.

The Scarlet Sect disciples lurched forward, trembling with desperate hope.

“W-what is it? Please—tell us!”

Lucien didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reviewed the descriptions floating in his mind.

•••

Genesis Command (5-Star Skill)

Grant or restore life at will. Resurrect the fallen, regrow limbs, or create living constructs from mana.

(Warning: Each use drains the user’s life force. Must master the Law of Life to mitigate consequences.)

Samsara Crown (Mythic)

When worn, it grants the ability to exchange one life for another. To sacrifice one to revive another, or to give up one’s own years to defy death itself.

•••

They were the only paths Perfect Loop marked with even the slightest chance of success.

But Genesis Command?

Lucien exhaled slowly.

‘Crossed out.’

Using it now would carve away his own lifespan… and without mastery of the Law of Life, the drain would be catastrophic.

That left—

The crown.

Lucien lifted his hand slightly.

“There is one way,” he finally said. “But it demands sacrifice.”

The air tightened.

“You may not die,” Lucien continued. “But my method might consume years of lifespan from the one who volunteers.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell.

Fear. Grief. Uncertainty.

No one dared breathe.

Until—

A single voice broke through.

“I am willing.”

The Scarlet Sect senior sister stepped forward. Tears still streaked her cheeks. Her hands were shaking but resolute.

“I am willing to offer anything,” she whispered. “My years… my strength… whatever it takes. Please… just bring him back.”

Lucien’s gaze settled on her.

Her aura burned with a faint fire, the unmistakable lineage of the Salamander Clan, a long-lived race whose lifespans stretched far beyond humans.

He assessed her quietly.

‘She can survive it. Both of them can leave alive… if the exchange is controlled.’

Lucien nodded once, solemnly.

It was possible.

And with that single nod—

Hope ignited in every heart present.

The weight of the coming decision settled onto the battlefield like a second sky.

Lucien inhaled deeply.

“All right,” he said softly. “Prepare yourself.”

Lucien grabbed the Samsara Crown from his Inventory.

Golden motes shimmered above his palm.

The others felt it instantly.

A pulse. A pressure. A sacred, dreadful force that did not belong in the hands of mortals.

The crown gleamed with reincarnational radiance. Its edges were etched with flowing patterns that resembled turning wheels and falling petals. Cycles of life, death, and the exchange between them.

When Lucien placed it upon his head…

…reality shifted.

His aura flared like a sun rising behind a storm.

A distortion rippled through the air, bending breath itself around him.

For a single heartbeat, everyone saw it.

Lucien was no longer merely a simple practitioner.

He became a sovereign of cycles.

A keeper of the threshold between existence and oblivion.

A being who could decide whether someone lives… or does not.

A being you must never make an enemy of.

Scarlet Sect disciples fell to their knees unconsciously.

Verdant Veil practitioners stiffened, breath caught in fear and awe.

Even the black-robed faction subtly stepped back.

Eirene whispered,

“…Brother Luc…”

Marie’s eyes widened, stunned into silence.

Because in that moment—

Lucien stood as a reaper and a savior both.

A figure crowned not by power alone, but by the right to command Samsara itself.

And the price of life was about to be named.