100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 271

Chapter 271: Chapter 271 – Treasures
They moved.

At first, the Verdant Veil hesitated.

No one said it aloud, but the thought was shared by all of them.

They should wait. Wait for Eirene. Wait for her return.

Leaving without her felt wrong.

Lucien was the one who broke the silence.

He had been sorting through the storage rings she entrusted to him when he noticed a glowing strip of folded material resting quietly inside one ring.

A note.

He unfolded it.

The handwriting was neat.

[ Return to the Verdant Veil first.

It will take time for me to come home.

Do not wait for me. ]

Lucien exhaled slowly.

He showed it to the others.

The reaction was immediate but restrained.

Eirene had already decided.

In the end, they could only accept it.

Before leaving, they turned back one last time.

The desert lay silent behind them.

Then they continued forward.

They did not leave alone.

Sahrin walked a few steps behind Lucien now with her posture straighter than before. Khasari stayed close to her side. His eyes constantly scanned the horizon, as if the world might fracture again without warning.

They weren’t the only mortals to depart.

Other factions had done the same earlier. They recruited those they deemed promising. Lilith herself had taken several under the banner of the Starforge Cartel.

The Desert Folk were no longer overlooked.

Their race bore living tattoos. They are marks woven into their flesh and soul. With proper cultivation, those markings could become anything. Tools, weapons, constructs, conduits for law itself.

A hammer for forging. A shield for protection. A blade. A sigil. Anything they could conceptualize and survive shaping.

Once, the desert had been their cradle. Now, it had become their cage.

Their home was destroyed. And with it, the limits that had bound them.

What remained was choice.

Many chose to leave.

It’s a tragedy and an opportunity born from the same ruin.

They traveled toward the edge of the ruined nation, where the Solaris Ark rested.

The Celestial Race proxies had left one behind.

Arctyx explained as they walked.

“The others were taken to the Meridian Gate,” he said. “Some left immediately… afraid their gains would be contested. Others intend to disappear, practice in secrecy, and return only when they’re strong enough.”

Lucien understood.

After what they had witnessed, caution was no longer cowardice.

And beyond that—

The Red Dragon and the Dark Shade had returned to the Big World.

When the Ark finally came into view, something unexpected awaited them.

The black-robed faction was already there.

They hadn’t truly left.

They stood near the boarding ramp, unhurried as if this outcome had always been inevitable.

Lucien felt his interest stir. Whatever they wanted to discuss with him, it was not small.

They boarded together.

The Solaris Ark sealed shut with a soft hum as Marie took the control seat. Her fingers already danced across familiar interfaces.

The engines warmed.

The desert fell away beneath them.

As the Ark lifted into the sky, Lucien looked out through the viewport one last time.

The land below was quiet. But the stillness was gone.

And somewhere far behind them—

Eirene stood alone before something ancient.

•••

Inside the Solaris Ark, the tension finally loosened.

The steady hum of the engines replaced the desert’s silence. Soft light panels ignited along the walls, bathing the interior in a calm glow as the vessel stabilized its course.

Only then did everyone truly breathe.

They spread out naturally. Some claimed seats, others leaned against bulkheads, a few sat cross-legged on the floor.

A handful checked injuries that had already begun to fade. Others opened storage rings with their expressions tightening or brightening as they confirmed what was real and what had not been a dream.

They had survived.

And they had returned with far more than survival.

Lucien settled into a quieter corner and began sorting through the storage rings Eirene had entrusted to him.

At first, everything was orderly… supplies, sealed containers, artifacts catalogued with care.

Then he paused.

One ring felt… different.

When he opened it, his breath slowed.

Inside were sheets of crystal-paper, tomes, and rolled scrolls. Flowing script covered each surface, dense with marginal notes and layered corrections. The writing felt alive like thoughts preserved mid-evolution.

Lucien’s eyes widened.

These were records from the Chamber of the Silent Heart.

They contained the Eternal of Stillness’s own evolving understanding, preserved not for worship but for comprehension.

Lucien swallowed.

“…She really trusted me with this,” he murmured.

Carefully, he sealed the ring again.

Only then did he turn to the storage ring Lilith had given him.

When he opened it, the items revealed themselves one by one.

First—

A headband of midnight metal, smooth and cool to the touch. Tiny constellations were inlaid across its surface, unmoving. No matter how he turned it, a single star remained fixed.

Lucien smiled faintly as he activated INSPECT.

Starfruit Halo — A navigation relic. Once locked onto a chosen celestial reference, it provided an absolute frame of orientation… even within voids, warped space, or collapsing starfields.

Next—

A pair of gloves, dark at the base and trimmed with fine luminous filaments that shimmered like comet tails when he flexed his fingers. They felt… steady.

Comet Sugar Gauntlets — Forging gloves designed for precision under extreme conditions. They stabilized motion down to the smallest tremor, allowing flawless crafting in micro-gravity or violent mana flux.

Then—

A thin, disc-shaped instrument resembling a compass. No matter how Lucien rotated it, the needle refused to spin.

Anchor Biscuit — A spatial stabilizer. It locked onto a fixed existential direction rather than magnetic or mana-based fields. Even within spatial distortions or broken coordinates, it pointed toward true position.

And finally—

A folded mantle. Its fabric was so dark it swallowed light rather than reflecting it. Even the Ark’s illumination dimmed slightly near its surface.

Black Velvet Parfait — A positional cloak. Once activated, it anchored the wearer’s location in space-time. Forced teleportation, displacement effects, and involuntary relocation simply failed.

Lucien let out a slow breath.

“These are ridiculous… And why are their names like this?” he muttered. “Does the Eternal of Stillness have a sweet tooth?”

Still, none of the items were flashy. They were foundational.

Tools crafted by someone who understood survival beyond worlds.

And Lilith hadn’t stopped there.

The ring was packed with spirit crystals, rare alloys, sealed modules, and auxiliary components. They were so tightly arranged it was obvious she hadn’t skimmed.

She had overpaid again.

Lucien sealed the ring.

‘When the time comes to explore space… these will save my life.’

As the thought settled, a presence approached.

Lucien lifted his head.

The black-robed leader stood a short distance away.

“May we speak?” the man asked calmly.

Lucien rose.

They moved toward a quieter section of the Ark, shielded from the others by structural bulkheads and humming conduits.

The black-robed leader stopped and turned to face him.

The black-robed leader did not waste time.

“Would you like to join our organization?”

The words landed cleanly.

Lucien froze.

For the first time since boarding the Solaris Ark, he was caught off guard.

‘Join them?’

The Black-Robed Faction had eluded identification even by Celestial-realm guards at an intercontinental teleportation array. Their presence bent rules without breaking them.

This was not an ordinary recruitment.

Lucien did not answer immediately.

He studied the man in silence. The way the robe absorbed attention. This was someone accustomed to being observed without being understood.

Finally, Lucien spoke.

“Before I answer,” he said evenly, “tell me about your organization.”

The robed leader fell silent.

He turned his head just enough for Lucien to see the faint glint of an eye beneath the hood.

For a moment, Lucien felt it.

Assessment. As if he was checking whether Lucien was asking out of curiosity… or already knew the answer.

Then the man spoke.

“We are called,” he said, “the Liberators.”

Lucien’s pulse skipped.

Not visibly. But inside, something clicked into place with terrifying clarity.

Liberators.

‘Of course.’

The word echoed backward through memory. The leader’s earlier question, “Are you a human?”

Lucien finally understood now.

The leader watched him closely. Waiting for Lucien’s reaction.

But then…

Lucien gave him nothing.

No widening of the eyes. No tightening of the jaw. No shift in breath.

He simply smiled.

A small smile that revealed nothing.

“Please continue,” Lucien said calmly. “What do you guys do?”

For the first time since the conversation began—

The black-robed leader hesitated.