100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 288

Chapter 288: Chapter 288 – Done
The preparation took longer than the ritual itself.

Lucien cleared a wide expanse of his inner realm until nothing remained but smooth, reinforced ground saturated with evenly distributed divine energy. He shaped the space into a shallow concavity, broad enough to contain convergence without forcing compression.

At its center, Lucien carved the basin.

Into its structure, he etched magic circle formations drawn directly from the Records of Stillness.

The Funeral Concord Array came first. It’s a stabilizing matrix designed to prevent premature dissolution during post-mortem transitions. Its lines did not restrain. They acknowledged finality and made space for it.

Above it, he layered the Quietus Weave. It’s a formation meant to dampen violent soul recoil. Interlocking magic circles spread outward from the basin like overlapping ripples on water, ensuring that nothing within would be torn apart by its own resistance.

Finally, he sealed the structure with the Liminal Anchor Script. It’s a circular sequence that bound the basin to the present moment. No regression. No drifting backward. What entered would move forward… or not at all.

This phase would demand an immense amount of energy. And so, he placed millions of Spirit Crystals in even distribution.

As the final crystal settled, the formation arrays ignited in response.

Only when all three formations resonated in clean harmony did Lucien proceed.

He introduced the black petals first.

They dissolved under his control. It melted into a dark, viscous essence that flowed into the basin and spread evenly across its surface. The Funeral Concord Array reacted at once. The magic circles dimmed as they absorbed the imprint of cessation carried by the petals.

The atmosphere shifted.

The black essence settled, forming a boundary of acknowledgment.

Only then did Lucien turn toward Luke and Cienna.

“Mother. Father,” he said softly. “It’s time.”

They nodded.

[My boy. See you later.]

[When we meet again, we will be able to hold you.]

Lucien returned the gesture with a soft smile. Their trust in him was absolute.

And so—

The two figures stepped forward, moving together toward the basin.

Within that boundary, the figures of light began to change.

Luke and Cienna’s defined silhouettes loosened.

Their edges blurred and their features softened. The cohesion that had allowed them to resemble a human faded, replaced by something more honest and fragile.

Light detached in slow strands, drifting inward toward the basin like ash drawn to still air.

Lucien watched every fluctuation.

This was the point of no return.

If the soul rejected the imprint of ending, it would fracture beyond recovery. If the imprint overwhelmed it, nothing would remain to rebuild.

The Quietus Weave held.

Resistance did not vanish all at once. It ebbed in waves. Lucien adjusted the arrays constantly, tightening here, loosening there, ensuring the pressure never spiked beyond tolerance.

Gradually, the drifting light stopped scattering.

It gathered.

Only when the basin stabilized did Lucien release the golden petals.

He suspended them above the center and allowed them to unravel naturally. Each petal separated into fine filaments of warm radiance that descended slowly. They threaded themselves into the dark essence below.

Where the black petals established acceptance, the golden petals introduced continuity.

The effect followed instantly.

The basin brightened from within.

Lucien’s perception sharpened as the souls began to change in measurable ways.

Their density increased. The drifting light no longer behaved like fragments pulled by external force. It began to respond internally, folding in on itself, reconnecting segments that had once belonged together.

Lucien monitored the process relentlessly.

Whenever the density spiked too quickly, he redirected energy flow. When stagnation threatened, he reinforced the Liminal Anchor Script to maintain forward progression.

The Spirit Crystals maintained a continuous energy supply, stabilizing the formation throughout the process.

•••

Time stretched. Days slipped by, perhaps even weeks.

The reformation of a soul was slow by nature.

The soul did not reform evenly. Certain regions stabilized faster than others, creating temporary imbalances that Lucien corrected one by one. He recognized patterns from the records. This was normal and expected, but dangerous if ignored.

Slowly, structure emerged.

Form.

The light condensed into a humanoid silhouette, indistinct but whole.

Lucien felt his breath catch.

The Funeral Concord Array dimmed further. Its task was nearly complete. The Quietus Weave loosened, no longer needed to suppress violent recoil.

The basin held steady on its own.

After one final verification, Lucien allowed the golden filaments to dissipate.

The soul remained. Whole.

He did not move for a long time.

Only when he was certain that no delayed collapse would occur did he finally step back. Exhaustion settled into his bones.

The second pillar stood.

The most treacherous stage had not destroyed them.

Lucien looked upon the completed soul-form resting within the basin and allowed himself a single thought.

‘They are ready.’

What remained would decide everything.

Lucien then retrieved the cryogenic chambers and released the bodies within.

Just then…

The bodies rose.

They floated free of their containment, suspended within the ritual space as if cradled by unseen currents.

They breathed in shallow, autonomous rhythms, a proof of biological readiness without awareness.

Lucien adjusted their positions carefully, aligning them opposite the basin.

The distance between vessel and soul closed.

The completed souls responded immediately.

Their density shifted. their internal coherence tightened. Subtle currents formed within the soul-masses as they oriented themselves toward the waiting bodies.

Lucien felt the alignment take hold.

The bodies had been built for this. Every structure within them resonated with the accumulated pattern of the souls they faced. Biology, energy pathways, and material composition converged into a single, undeniable compatibility.

Causality recognized the match.

The souls grew quiet. Their outward presence dimmed. The pull between soul and vessel deepened. It was gentle yet inescapable like gravity forming where mass finally met its counterpart.

Lucien stepped closer and extended his authority.

He defined limits. Transfer rate. Structural tolerance. Synchronization windows.

The world complied.

The movement began.

The souls flowed forward in measured progression, no longer appearing as figures of light but as layered coherence unfolding toward the vessels.

Identity folded inward. It threaded itself into neural frameworks, aligning with mana vessels, and settling into biological systems prepared to receive it.

The bodies reacted.

Muscle fibers twitched faintly. Mana pathways activated at minimal capacity, circulating energy in restrained loops. Blood systems primed without initiating full circulation, holding tension in perfect balance.

Lucien watched everything.

Every fluctuation was measured and every surge was guided. When resistance appeared, he stabilized it.

Time lost meaning.

The souls resisted at certain points, from accumulated discontinuity. Lucien recognized those regions immediately. He reinforced coherence, allowing the vessel to adapt rather than forcing the soul to conform.

Gradually, the movement slowed.

The pull weakened.

The alignment settled.

The souls reached completion within their vessels.

Still… They did not animate the bodies.

Not yet.

But they belonged now.

Lucien felt the moment it finalized. The formations dimmed as their purpose was now fulfilled.

The basin’s light faded until only faint residual glow remained.

The bodies floated in silence.

Lucien exhaled slowly. His hands trembled once before he steadied them at his sides.

“It’s done,” he said quietly.

Lucien closed his eyes.

This was not the end.

The bodies were occupied. The souls were whole.

But identity had not yet awakened.

The spirit had not crossed.

Lucien straightened slowly.

The most dangerous part still lay ahead.

And this time—

There would be no way to stop once it began.

•••

Lucien raised his hand.

Two tomes answered.

The Skillpedia emerged first, followed by the Magic Book. They drifted toward him and began to circle slowly.

They moved as if they already understood why they had been called.

Lucien reached out and rested his palm against each cover in turn. It’s a gesture more akin to reassurance than command.

He felt it immediately.

The spirits of his parents were preserved within them. The cheats had once been extensions of their identity. Over time, those frameworks had become sanctuaries.

Lucien closed his eyes.

This was the point of no return.

Before the spirit could be moved, three conditions had to be met.

First. Recognition.

A spirit would not enter a vessel that did not acknowledge it. Even a perfectly constructed body would reject identity if it sensed foreignness.

Lucien extended his authority across the ritual space.

The bodies responded.

Mana vessels adjusted their internal flow. Neural frameworks aligned subtly. Every structure within the vessels oriented toward the signatures that had once defined them.

The bodies remembered who they were meant for.

Second. Continuity.

A spirit could not be torn from its anchor. It had to be carried across intact.

Lucien formed a conduit of correspondence.

He linked the tomes to the bodies through a direct causal bridge, a shared narrative.

The past preserved within the tomes. The present embodied by the vessels.

The bridge did not pull.

It aligned.

Third. Consent.

This was the most fragile condition.

Lucien did not command the books. He waited.

The tomes slowed their orbit.

Then—

Something emerged.

From the Skillpedia, a small figure manifested. It’s a condensed expression of identity, seated in still meditation.

From the Magic Book, another presence unfolded in the same manner.

They were immediately recognizable.

Lucien felt his chest tighten and forced his breathing steady.

The spirits were preserved without erosion. Defined without decay.

He then raised his hand between them.

“This will hurt a bit,” he said quietly.

The spirits did not retreat.

And Lucien began.

The bridge activated.

The spirits moved inward. Their forms elongated into streams of coherent identity as they passed through the conduit Lucien had established.

They crossed cleanly.

Lucien guided the descent with extreme care.

Too fast, and identity would shear against biological limits.

Too slow, and coherence would unravel under strain.

The vessels reacted.

Mana vessels ignited at minimal capacity, circulating energy in restrained loops. Neural structures resonated, forming alignment patterns without triggering consciousness. Blood systems tightened, preparing circulation without releasing it.

Lucien observed everything.

Every fluctuation passed through his perception.

When resistance appeared, he adjusted the vessel to accommodate it. When instability formed, he reinforced continuity rather than forcing compliance.

The spirits entered.

Identity threaded into neural frameworks. Memory aligned with structure. Will settled into form.

The bodies trembled once.

Then stilled.

Lucien did not breathe.

The final strands of spirit crossed the bridge and anchored fully.

The conduit dissolved.

Lucien exhaled slowly.

It was done.