100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 376 - Predator

Far beyond the torn edge of the barrier, Saber’s Domain lay over the sky like an unseen jaw. It declared that everything inside it could be measured in one currency: predator and prey.

Still, the Eternal Alloykin inside it did not die easily.

He was not a simple prey.

His resonance smashed against the invisible teeth of Predation, trying to scatter the decision.

Saber, now in his Moonfang Smilodon form, watched with interest. His eyes gleamed with restrained hunger.

"Your kind learned to survive by refusing endings," Saber said. "That is admirable."

The Alloykin Eternal’s voice came strained, furious.

"Who are you?! There was not supposed to be an Eternal in Starforge," he said.

Saber smiled.

"You keep repeating what you were told," Saber said. "That is why you will die here."

The Eternal Alloykin roared and his own domain surged, trying to forge a hole through Saber’s Domain.

Saber’s Domain flexed.

It shuddered.

But it did not break.

That could only mean one thing. The world itself acknowledged Saber’s Domain as superior to the Eternal Alloykin’s.

"Interesting," the Alloykin said. "You built a feeding ground."

Saber’s silhouette stood in the air like a blade laid flat, calm enough to offend.

"You mistake it," Saber replied softly. "A feeding ground has grass. This place has only teeth."

The Eternal Alloykin smiled and flared his Law.

Metal screamed.

This time, it became a wave of living metal plates that moved like scales rolling over one another, interlocking, layering, and compressing. Astrafer shimmered through it, spreading every pressure into a thousand lesser pressures, refusing to let any one strike become fatal.

He surged forward.

Head-on.

Their collision broke sound without producing noise. The air buckled. Space trembled. For an instant, the world outside the Domain felt a brief, inexplicable heaviness like a distant animal turning in its sleep.

Saber did not dodge.

He stepped into the impact.

Claw met forged metal.

Predation met Resonance.

The Alloykin’s body dispersed damage the moment Saber touched him, smearing force across his entire structure.

Saber’s claws bit anyway.

Not deep. But they left thin lines across the body like scratches on a mirror.

The Eternal Alloykin’s eyes flicked down, displeased.

"You are trying to cut Astrafer?" he asked. "Give up now. It is the metal that does not accept being taken."

Saber’s lips curled, exposing pale fangs.

"I am not taking it," he said. "I am reminding it what it was made for."

The Alloykin lunged again.

He forged metal into joints and hinges around his arms, not to strike harder, but to redirect. Each time Saber’s claws came in, the Alloykin’s Law met it with angled plates that dispersed the line of attack into harmless vibration.

It was perfect defense.

It was also a mistake.

Because Saber did not hunt bodies the way smiths fought.

He hunted habits.

The third clash came faster than the second.

The Eternal Alloykin’s right arm rose to intercept, as it always did.

Saber’s claws followed the same arc, as expected.

Then at the last breath before contact... Saber’s Domain shifted with an invisible adjustment, like a predator lowering its head.

The distance between claw and arm did not change.

What changed was the rule of what counted as contact.

Saber struck the Alloykin’s shadow.

The Alloykin’s Astrafer resonance hesitated.

For a fraction of a heartbeat, it did not know how to disperse an injury that had not occurred on the body.

Saber’s claw passed through that hesitation and cut across the Alloykin’s chest.

A shallow line opened. A cut in the resonance pattern itself.

The Eternal Alloykin’s expression tightened. He touched his chest with two fingers and felt the wrongness, the tiny gap where his perfect dispersal had not dispersed.

"You cut... the pattern," he said.

Saber’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

"Astrafer disperses force," Saber replied. "So I did not give you force."

He drifted forward a step. His aura sharpened until the Domain’s air felt like the edge of a knife.

"I gave you fear."

The Alloykin laughed once, harshly.

"You cannot kill me with philosophy."

Saber’s smile was thin.

"I have killed kings with hunger."

The Eternal Alloykin surged forward again, and this time his Law changed.

Metal did not form as armor. It formed as threads, countless filament lines that spread through the Domain like a net. They sought anchors and points of stability. If he could not tear the Domain from the outside, he would forge an inside frame and force the Domain to recognize it.

The threads embedded themselves into space.

The Domain flexed as if irritated.

The Eternal Alloykin grinned.

"There," he said. "Even verdicts must sit on something."

Saber watched the threads with quiet interest.

Then he moved.

He did not sprint. He simply appeared closer, like a hunter’s patience reaching its limit.

His claws flashed. The metal threads snapped, but not because he cut them. Because the Domain declared that those threads were prey too, and prey did not get to anchor the hunting ground.

The Alloykin’s grin faltered.

He raised both arms and the threads reformed, denser.

Saber stepped through them.

Every thread that touched his aura dulled, as if its purpose forgot itself.

The Alloykin’s eyes widened a fraction.

"What... is this?"

Saber’s voice came low.

"Predation is not only teeth," he said. "It is hierarchy."

He lifted a claw and pressed it against the Alloykin’s forearm, pressing.

The Domain around them tightened.

The Alloykin’s Astrafer resonance surged to disperse the pressure—

And found the pressure had been assigned a new name.

Claim.

The resonance shuddered.

For the first time, the Eternal Alloykin’s body reacted as if it had been pinned.

Saber leaned in, fangs near the Alloykin’s throat.

"You said your metal refuses ownership," Saber murmured. "That is why your kind survives."

His eyes narrowed.

"But prey does not decide what refuses."

The Alloykin roared and exploded outward with raw Law, forging spikes in every direction to break Saber’s proximity.

Saber’s Domain allowed the spikes to exist.

Then it made them irrelevant.

The spikes slowed, the way a thrown spear slowed when its target was no longer "reachable" by the rules of the hunt.

Saber slid through the gap and raked his claws across the Alloykin’s shoulder.

Again, the cut was not deep.

But the resonance pattern tore further.

The Eternal Alloykin staggered, furious now, and his Law screamed around him like a furnace trying to melt the concept of defeat.

Their clash became a cyclone.

Metal forged and un-forged in the same breath.

Predation tightened and loosened like a jaw testing bone.

And then, at the edge of that violence, something shifted.

The Eternal Alloykin’s eyes went sharp.

He stopped smiling.

He stared at Saber as if seeing the silhouette beneath the power.

"...I finally recognized you," he said slowly.

The Alloykin’s voice rose, loud with sudden recognition.

"The legends spoke of a Moonfang Smilodon," he said. "The one who made realms remember fear."

He breathed out, almost laughing.

"The world forgot you millennia ago." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

His eyes gleamed, delighted now, as if the war had just turned into sport.

"And now you return."

He spread his arms.

"That is perfect," he said. "When I kill you, I will wear your name like a trophy. I will tell the world I ended a legend."

Saber’s laughter rolled out like a sound dragged from a buried era.

His form shuddered. Bloodlust came off him in waves and the Domain responded, tightening as if it too had become hungry.

"You speak of trophies," Saber said. "That is a young predator’s religion."

He stepped forward, and the distance between them became meaningless again.

"I do not trophy," Saber continued. "I finish."

The Eternal Alloykin’s grin sharpened.

"Then finish me," he hissed. "Try."

Saber did not answer.

He moved.

The battle exploded anew.

This time, the Alloykin fought like a veteran who had stopped underestimating.

He forged his metal into layered spirals that rotated around his vital core, each layer dispersed harm into the next like a chain of obedient reactions. He stopped intercepting with the same arm. He broke his own habits, forcing Saber to hunt without pattern.

Saber’s eyes gleamed brighter.

"Good. A prey that learned was a prey worth remembering."

Their clash rose and fell in bursts.

Saber cut resonance again and again, widening the fault-lines.

The Alloykin rebuilt them, welding his own pattern back together through sheer Law.

Saber’s claws could hurt Astrafer.

Because Astrafer’s dispersal depended on one assumption. That an attack could be turned into spread-out impact.

Predation did not always attack.

Sometimes it assigned the wound to the one place the prey could not spread. Sometimes it wounded the prey’s decision. Sometimes it wounded their escape.

But even so—

It still was not enough.

The Eternal Alloykin’s law and resonance were too refined.

Saber could make him bleed.

He could not yet make him die.

Not without paying the price he had been postponing.

The price of ending pride.

The price of using a tool.

He still had not used the talisman Lucien had given him.

To Saber, a predator who relied on borrowed fangs was no predator at all.

A hunter must understand every prey. Only then does the kill become complete.

If Lucien had not been here... would he still be able to kill an Alloykin?

That question mattered more than victory.

A true predator adapts.

Saber’s eyes narrowed.

He felt the rhythm of the prey. The timing of its recovery. The exact breath where its resonance had to reset.

And for the first time in the fight, Saber’s smile became sharper than amusement.

It became intent.

"You are strong," Saber said. "That is why your death will be educational."

The Eternal Alloykin laughed.

"Good," he snarled. "Teach me."

Saber’s aura tightened.

His Domain constricted.

Then he smiled.

The true climax of a hunt was not the killing blow. It was the moment the prey realized it had been marked from the beginning.

•••

Inside Starforge, the Alloykins realized too late.

The Celestial Alloykins stopped laughing.

They began issuing commands.

Squads withdrew, regrouped, and struck at new angles, looking for the one weakness every fortress had.

One Celestial Alloykin lifted his hand and a signal flashed through the air like a coded spark.

Across the battlefield, several Alloykins moved at once, not toward Starforge fighters but toward the barrier anchors Lucien had reinforced.

Not to break them but to overload them. To force the cosmic layers to react too often, too quickly, until the borrowed pressure turned unstable.

Lucien saw it.

His eyes narrowed.

"So this is your answer," he murmured.

Anvil-Horn felt it too and shouted from above.

"Hold the anchors," he commanded. "Do not let them touch the bones."

Lilith’s voice snapped across the ground line.

"Second squad, rotate. Do not chase. Guard the pillars."

Kaia turned, flames rising, and grinned.

"They finally got serious," she said.

Lucien’s gaze stayed fixed on the shifting enemy formation.

In the distance, Saber’s Domain trembled again.

Then—

Lucien felt it in his bones.

Fate was reaching for its repayment.

And somewhere in the enemy ranks, a new presence began to rise.

Not Alloykin.

But something colder.

Something that smelled like the void.

Lucien inhaled slowly.

"Oh shit. Here we go again."

And the war which had begun as a trap, threatened to become something worse.

A reckoning.