100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 318

Chapter 318: Chapter 318 – Report
Just then—

Astraea shifted.

Lightning crawled along her feathers in slow, deliberate arcs. It folded back into her body like threads being rewoven. Her vast wings drew closer. The air hummed as mass and presence condensed.

The giant Roc did not shrink like a beast being forced into a smaller cage.

She refined herself.

The radiance intensified, becoming a silhouette of pure brilliance. Feathers unraveled into streams of light. Thunder softened into a deep silence. When the glow finally thinned, something new stood where the storm had been.

A woman.

She was tall. Her posture was straight and balanced like a seasoned warrior at rest. Her features were sharp yet composed, it is beauty shaped by discipline rather than softness.

Silver-blue hair fell past her shoulders, catching faint sparks of lightning as if the storm had not fully let her go. Her eyes held the color of a charged sky just before rain.

Traces of her true nature remained.

Faint arcs of electricity traced along her skin when she moved. Her pupils narrowed slightly like a bird of prey’s when her focus sharpened. At her back, the suggestion of wings lingered in the air.

She looked less like a human and more like a legend that had chosen a familiar shape.

Lucien recognized her instantly.

Astraea Thundersong.

He did not speak.

“I see,” Astraea said, her voice was lower than expected. “So the Pact carries convenience as well. This form allows me to move without folding the world around me.”

She turned toward Lucien and smiled.

“If my sense is correct,” she continued, “you should be able to assume my form as well. Yet… you cannot.”

Her gaze lingered on him.

Then she tilted her head slightly.

“Of course. You are still fragile. To merge with my being is no small matter.”

Lucien blinked. ‘Wait.’

‘Does the pact come with access to her form? This is… a free Beast Mode?!’

The thought hit him so hard it almost derailed his composure.

He asked silently.

‘System. What do I need to assume her form?’

[Ting.]

[Requirement: Increase mutual affinity and comprehension of Pact Partner.]

[Note: Form assimilation requires structural understanding and resonance alignment.]

Lucien exhaled slowly.

‘Figures.’

He turned back to Astraea.

“Senior,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “it seems I am still unworthy of your form. Perhaps… in the future.”

Astraea nodded once, unbothered.

“There is no urgency,” she replied. “Power taken too early fractures the bearer.”

Then her expression shifted.

“Now,” she said, “tell me everything. From the moment you encountered the stone-born to now.”

Lucien did.

He explained their arrival to the Obsidian Tower.

The deception.

The borrowed form.

Kharzun.

The dominion that rejected miasma.

The order he had given to delay withdrawal.

Astraea listened without interruption. Her eyes occasionally brightened with approval.

When he finished, she laughed softly.

“Good,” she said. “Very good. To deceive an emperor while standing on borrowed instincts… that is not cowardice. That is nerve.”

She studied him.

“And since there is only one emperor present,” she added, “this situation is manageable.”

Lucien felt something ease inside him.

But then—

The hunger surged again. Blood. Dominion. Control.

Lucien stiffened, catching himself before his aura reacted.

Astraea noticed immediately.

Her gaze sharpened.

“So the price makes itself known,” she said calmly. “Wearing that form has consequences it seems.”

She paused, then shook her head.

“There is no cure. Not even I can erase instincts baked into an Emperor’s origin.”

Lucien sighed.

Even the Origin Core fragment struggled to suppress it. Hearing that confirmed what he already knew.

“Still,” Astraea added, “You are resisting. That matters.”

Lucien nodded.

Just as he was about to speak again, a ripple passed through his awareness.

The Obsidian Tower.

Something had changed.

“Senior,” Lucien said quickly, “I must return. There is movement within the tower.”

Astraea inclined her head.

“Go,” she said. “If you fall, I will know. That is the nature of equality.”

Lucien did not linger.

He withdrew from the ritual field and compressed his domain, his presence snapping back into the Obsidian Tower.

The moment he reappeared near the entrance—

He felt it.

A disturbance.

Something had crossed the entrance.

Lucien’s blood-red eyes narrowed.

He exhaled the moment he recognized the presence that had crossed the tower’s threshold.

The lead Monster King.

Yet confusion flickered through Lucien’s mind all the same.

Only hours had passed. They should have been executing his decree, not returning.

The gargoyle advanced no further than the edge of the inner hall. There, at a respectful distance, he lowered himself and knelt. His wings folded tight against his stone frame.

“Ancestor,” the Monster King called, voice heavy with reverence. “I have returned to report.”

Lucien’s blood-red gaze settled upon him, unreadable.

“Speak.”

The gargoyle hesitated for a fraction of a breath as if choosing his words with care.

“On the route beyond the veil,” he began, “we encountered the goblins.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

“They were not alone,” the Monster King continued. “They carried captives. Alive and unbroken.”

Lucien’s pupils contracted.

“…Humans are among them.”

For the first time since arriving in this dominion, Lucien felt true dissonance.

He had just been buying time and had issued whatever decree he could think of.

But this—

There really were captured people. Living people. And even humans.

His mind accelerated instantly, branching into a dozen calculations at once.

Yet his posture did not change.

His voice remained cold.

“What did I say about relying on goblins?”

The Monster King lowered his head further.

“Ancestor, this was not my will.”

Lucien’s gaze sharpened.

“There is more,” the gargoyle said… and now something like restrained eagerness crept into his tone. “I bring not merely news, but clarity.”

Lucien allowed a pause.

Then spoke.

“Continue.”

The Monster King lifted his head slightly. His stone eyes burned with a controlled intensity.

“Monster Emperor Kharzun,” he said, “has granted the goblins passage to our dominion.”

Silence fell.

The gargoyle pressed on.

“Their Monster Emperor walks within our dominion even now. It was not done by decree of the Ancestor, nor by consensus of the Kings.”

He drew a breath.

“My loyalty to you has endured since the war. My values have not changed. But your disciple… Kharzun… has chosen a different path.”

The gargoyle’s claws tightened against the floor.

“I do not welcome goblins in our dominion,” he said. “Yet it was Kharzun who opened the way. Ancestor… I ask for judgment.”

Lucien felt it then.

Amusement.

Even among monsters, there were fractures. Pride clashed with pragmatism. Old loyalties strained beneath new authority.

He looked at the kneeling Monster King anew.

So this one remembered the past. So this one still chose sides.

Lucien rose slowly from his seat.

The movement alone carried weight.

“So,” he said, “my disciple bares fangs at my shadow.”

The Monster King’s eyes flared.

“You have shown discernment,” Lucien continued. “And loyalty.”

The gargoyle’s posture straightened. His reverence sharpened into fervor.

“Tell me,” Lucien said, “who walks with the goblins.”

The Monster King answered without hesitation.

“One Goblin Monster Emperor,” he said. “And dozens of Monster Kings.”

Lucien felt the situation tighten another degree.

A goblin emperor.

Inside a dominion that rejected miasma.

Under Kharzun’s permission.

This was no coincidence.

Lucien’s thoughts moved like blades finding their sheaths.

At last, he spoke.

“Act in accordance with Kharzun’s will,” Lucien said calmly.

The Monster King stiffened, surprised.

Lucien met his gaze.

“For now.”

Then his eyes hardened.

“If you can deliver the captives to this tower,” Lucien continued, “and perhaps bring the Goblin Emperor before me… you will be rewarded.”

The Monster King’s breath caught.

He bowed deeply.

“As the Ancestor commands.”

Without another word, he turned and departed. His steps echoed with renewed purpose.

The hall fell silent once more.

Lucien remained still for several breaths.

Then he expanded his awareness inward.

Through the Concord Pact, his presence brushed against Astraea’s.

The message was simple and direct.

Prepare yourself.

There is another emperor in play.

And this time, the board is crowded.

Lucien’s gaze lifted toward the tower’s upper reaches, where unseen formations were shifting.

The true owners of the Obsidian Tower had arrived.

His mind turned.

A dominion that rejected miasma.

A goblin emperor invited inside.

A disciple testing his master’s shadow.

And living people caught between monsters who believed they were bargaining from strength.

Lucien’s eyes gleamed faintly.

It seemed that deception alone would no longer suffice.

If a battle came—

Then it would be fought on terms he chose.

And this time, he would not be alone.