100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 301

Chapter 301: Chapter 301 – Cosmic Magic
Time lost its meaning inside the chamber as Lucien continued his work with methodical precision. He varied pressure, authority, and energy input. He recorded each response with Perfect Calculation.

Patterns emerged slowly.

Then—

Something reacted differently.

Lucien paused.

He had invoked Cosmic Attribute Magic almost as an afterthought at first.

But the result astonished him.

The air trembled.

The Astrafer body did not redistribute the damage.

It hesitated.

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

“So that is it,” he murmured.

He adjusted the parameters and tried again.

Cosmic magic stirred their bodies.

Soon, the reason became clear.

Astrafer was not merely a metal.

It was the crystallized consequence of a stellar anomaly. It existed because the planet had been shaped under cosmic pressure.

Which meant Astrafer’s perfect synchronization did not originate from elemental balance or mana flow.

It originated from cosmic alignment.

And that was its flaw.

Astrafer bodies synchronized flawlessly with internal force.

But they were not sovereign over the cosmos.

They could distribute damage and they could reinforce structure.

But they could not rewrite stellar influence.

Lucien tested it again.

This time deliberately.

He raised one hand.

A thin constellation of light formed above his palm, rotating slowly.

Lucien released it.

The spell did not burn. It misaligned.

The Alloykin’s Astrafer body shimmered violently. The perfect internal synchronization stuttered for the first time. Reinforcement lagged and damage no longer spread evenly.

Microfractures appeared…

The Alloykin convulsed.

Lucien followed immediately with another spell.

Void Tidal Shear.

It’s a cosmic attribute spell that mimicked gravitational tear.

The effect was subtle but merciless.

The Astrafer body screamed, structurally.

Synchronization collapsed in layers. The body attempted to compensate but cosmic pressure did not obey internal distribution. It imposed an external frame of reference.

The Alloykin died instantly.

Lucien exhaled.

“So cosmic magic overrides internal harmony,” he concluded calmly.

He continued.

•••

Lucien tested numerous spells from his Magic Book which now hovered quietly at his side.

Each spell was formidable in its own right but after careful observation, he narrowed his focus to three that proved the most effective.

Astral Dislocation. It caused temporary desynchronization, leaving Astrafer bodies sluggish and vulnerable.

Stellar Phase Inversion. It forced Astrafer reinforcement to misfire, reinforcing the wrong vectors.

Cosmic Anchor. It proved the most effective. It pinned the Astrafer body to a false stellar reference point, causing internal synchronization to tear itself apart as it tried to reconcile impossible coordinates.

This one was decisive.

Astrafer did not adapt. It collapsed.

Lucien nodded once.

“Optimal,” he said quietly.

…

When Lucien finally lifted his gaze, the chamber was silent.

All Alloykins within were dead.

He did not linger.

He stepped into the next chamber.

The reaction from the Alloykins was identical to the last.

Lucien answered with action.

The Stillness Tribunal Array unfolded once more.

This time, Lucien did not waste effort.

Cosmic magic flowed freely.

Bodies shattered from misalignment with reality itself.

Lucien moved with terrifying efficiency, refining the process further with each application. He did not rush.

He evaluated and he optimized.

•••

Chamber after chamber was emptied of living beings.

But still… before each execution, Lucien ensured that his judgment was not blind.

Before entering every chamber, he unfolded Divine Sense.

He searched for even a trace of purity.

If he found a single aura of clear color, he had already decided to spare it. He would not kill those who had not yet crossed the line.

But Lucien lost that hope quickly.

The result never changed.

Every aura was murky.

Every Alloykin here had benefited from enslavement, from breeding programs, and from generational extraction. Even those who had not ordered cruelty had lived comfortably upon it.

Lucien made his decision without regret.

“They would bring calamity to the Big World,” he said quietly. “I will not allow it.”

This was not slaughter.

It was prevention.

A future disaster was being dismantled chamber by chamber.

And as cosmic magic was repeatedly invoked, the mine itself began to react.

The aurora-lit walls dimmed slightly, disturbed by stellar pressure they had not felt since the planet’s birth. Astrafer veins resonated uneasily, no longer comforted by familiar synchronization.

Lucien noticed.

He adjusted his spells to avoid destabilizing the world itself.

The mine would survive.

The Alloykins would not.

Lucien stepped into the next chamber as cosmic light gathered once more at his fingertips.

The optimal method had been found.

And now—

There was no reason to stop.

•••

Lucien did not slow.

The upper levels were finished.

Chamber after chamber had fallen into silence and the mine had not screamed once. No tremor carried the truth downward. No alarm echoed.

The Stillness Tribunal Array had done what it was meant to do.

Lucien wiped nothing from his hands because nothing clung to him. Only thought remained.

Astrafer’s weakness was confirmed. That discovery was too valuable to keep as a private advantage.

Lucien’s gaze shifted to his Magic Book.

Cosmic attribute users were rare. He had not met another yet. If his people faced Astrafer-refined Alloykins in the Big World, relying on luck was not a plan.

He needed a method that could be carried.

Talismans.

He decided to craft them at a later date and give them to his people in the future. Not as a gift, but as insurance.

Lucien stepped away from the last chamber and turned toward the corridor.

Then he felt it.

Footsteps. Fast, controlled, and furious.

Just then…

A metal body tore through the entrance passage like a launched spear.

Lucien pivoted.

A strike came for his throat.

Lucien caught it. His hand closed around a forearm plated in refined metal.

Its momentum died instantly. The attacker’s boots scraped, but the grip did not shift.

Lucien’s eyes flicked past the metal sheen, and found the posture beneath.

Lithrens.

The attacker yanked back and shouted, voice tight with hatred.

“Evil Alloykin. This will be your end.”

More figures spilled in behind him. Weapons were raised and their eyes lit with hard resolve. They moved in a tight formation.

Rurik stood at the front.

His mineral plates looked cleaner than before. His stance looked steadier. His hands held something new.

It was not a crude construct.

It was a gauntlet frame that wrapped from wrist to elbow, built from layered segments of Living Alloy Essence and other precious metals. The material looked alive even when still as if it breathed through the joints. Along its surface ran channels that shifted like liquid circuitry.

Rurik pressed a trigger.

The gauntlet unfolded.

A translucent lattice snapped outward and formed a compact weapon-shape in midair. It was a compressive field generator, a cage of shimmering lines that folded space inward.

A Living Alloy Essence construct. A restraint weapon.

Rurik had built what he called a Slaver Breaker.

The lattice launched toward Lucien and tried to clamp around him like a closing halo.

Lucien tilted his head.

Only then did it register.

He was still wearing an Alloykin body.

He did not move to dodge.

He let the field strike him.

The lattice tightened.

For a breath, it held.

Lucien felt the pressure, the cleverness in the design, and the signature of Transmute embedded in every interlock.

Then Lucien exhaled once.

His aura flexed gently.

The lattice creaked, resisted, and then dissolved without exploding. The Living Alloy Essence returned to a stable state instead of shattering. That restraint was advanced enough to protect its own structure.

Lucien’s eyes brightened with genuine interest.

Rurik’s weapon was not merely strong.

It was disciplined.

The Lithren behind Rurik raised their own new arms. Each one held different weapons.

Only a day had passed.

And yet they came armed like a rebellion that had waited decades.

Lucien activated INSPECT once again.

A familiar panel unfolded.

***

STATUS

Name: Rurik ♂

Age: 20

Race: Lithren

Job: Transmuter

Realm: Mortal Realm — Stage 9

Laws:

• None

Constitution:

• Planetbound Resonance Physique

Title:

• Rebel

• Lithren’s Hope

Skill:

• Transmute

Magic:

• None

Magic Affinity:

• None

***

Lucien smiled.

Transmute was a terrifying 5-star skill. It was the kind of ability that turned time into a resource rather than a limit. That explained everything.

Rurik did not smile back.

He tugged his arm free and raised the gauntlet again.

“You will not trick us.”

Lucien answered calmly.

“I am not your enemy.”

The Lithren behind Rurik tightened their grips.

“Silence,” one of them hissed, voice trembling between fear and rage.

Lucien shrugged once.

Then he let the disguise fall.

The Alloykin beauty peeled away like reflected light slipping off glass. His real form returned and his eyes met theirs.

The corridor froze.

Weapons lowered a fraction.

Rurik’s breath caught.

“Savior,” he said, voice rough. “What are you doing here? Why were you wearing their body”

Lucien’s expression stayed mild.

“How else would I catch them unprepared?”

He turned slightly and pointed toward the nearest chamber.

“Look.”

Rurik hesitated, then stepped past him.

The first Lithren looked inside and stopped.

The next one stepped forward and froze too.

Then the whole group fell into a stunned silence that no hatred could fill.

The chamber was littered with bodies.

Alloykins, stacked in stillness.

Hundreds.

The Lithrens stared as if the world had cracked open and revealed a hidden sun.

Then their faces changed.

Not into joy but into something sharper.

Hope that had teeth.

Rurik’s eyes burned. His throat worked as if he had forgotten how to speak. Then he bowed.

The others followed.

It was not ceremonial. It was instinct.

Lucien’s hand moved.

He caught Rurik’s shoulder and forced him upright.

“Do not bow,” Lucien said. “Not yet.”

Rurik’s jaw clenched.

“But you…”

Lucien cut him off with a small shake of his head.

“This is not finished.”

He gestured downward, toward the spiral staircase that led to the deeper levels.

“There is still the mine below,” Lucien said. “There are still cages. There are still overseers.”

The Lithren’s new weapons hummed faintly as their grips tightened.

Lucien’s gaze swept across them.

He saw exhaustion, fear, and rage.

He also saw readiness.

He spoke clearly.

“I removed the upper layers,” Lucien said. “I removed the ones who would have crushed you before you could lift your hands.”

He pointed at Rurik’s gauntlet.

“And you came anyway.”

Rurik’s breathing steadied.

Lucien nodded once.

“That means you were not waiting for rescue. You were waiting for a chance.”

He stepped aside, giving them the corridor.

“This mine is your inheritance,” Lucien said. “Your blood paid for every stone. Your lives were spent to keep their bodies shining.”

His eyes hardened.

“Take it back.”

The Lithren’s eyes sharpened.

Lucien continued…

“Do not fight like prey,” he said. “Do not beg for mercy. Walk down there as owners and let them understand what it feels like to be powerless.”

He lifted a hand.

“I will not take your vengeance for you,” Lucien said. “I already opened the gate. Now you step through it.”

He looked at Rurik.

“Lead them.”

Rurik swallowed.

Then he raised the Slaver Breaker gauntlet and the Living Alloy Essence responded like a loyal beast. The lattice unfolded again, sharper than before.

His voice came out steady this time.

“Lithrens,” he said. “We go.”

The rebels straightened.

Their fear did not vanish.

It became fuel.

They moved as one toward the stairwell.

Lucien watched them pass.

He did not follow immediately.

He simply stood in the aurora-lit corridor, listening to their footsteps descend into the heart of the mine.

For the first time, the Lithren were not running deeper to hide.

They were going deeper to claim.

And Lucien, allowed himself one thought.

‘This was what freedom looked like when it finally learned how to walk.’