100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 377 - Wrongness

The wrongness arrived like a taste in the air.

Every Eternal felt it at the same time.

Condoriano’s wings stiffened.

Anvil-Horn’s horn flared once, warning.

And inside the torn edge of the sky, Saber’s Domain tightened as if its unseen teeth had sensed a larger jaw approaching.

Lucien did not need to speak for them to understand.

Their movements changed.

They began killing with the focus of beings who knew that the next minute might belong to something else.

Lucien blinked to Kaia first.

Her flame licked around her feet like impatient hounds. When he appeared beside her, her gaze snapped up instantly.

"Sister Kaia," Lucien said. "No more holding back. Go all out now."

Kaia’s smile did not reach her eyes.

"I was about to say the same thing," she replied. Her voice dropped, suddenly serious. "My fire is warning me. It is flickering, Brother. It only flickers when something bad is about to happen."

Lucien’s expression tightened.

Kaia exhaled once, as if letting a part of herself go.

"Then I’ll stop being careful."

Just then—

Her body dissolved...

Into fire.

A pure, living flame that rose from the ground like a sovereign claiming the air. She shot upward and the battlefield changed.

The flame drifted like a comet with intention. Wherever it passed, Alloykins felt it first as heat, then as judgement.

An Alloykin Celestial threw up his arms, resonance surging to scatter the incoming "damage."

But... Kaia’s fire slid through him anyway.

The Alloykin began to unravel, glowing from within as if his own existence had been found guilty. He screamed once, then fell apart into drifting ash that refused to cool.

And the fire kept moving, never slowing. It hunted the densest clusters, carving a path through enemy ranks in a streak of pale, undying light.

Lucien watched for half a heartbeat, then blinked away.

He appeared beside Lilith.

She was braced near the second kill corridor, eyes sharp, command flowing through her posture like a blade held at the throat of chaos. When Lucien materialized, she did not flinch.

She only saw his expression shift and understood immediately.

"You felt it too," she said.

Lucien nodded once.

"The plan we discussed," he said. "We do it now."

Lilith’s grip tightened on her polearm. "So it is time to stop fighting them one by one."

Lucien’s eyes were cold.

"We will harvest them."

Lilith’s lips curved slightly.

"Understood," she said. Then her voice snapped across the battlefield with command that carried like iron striking iron.

"Talismans, change pattern. Stop single throws."

Healers and support froze for a fraction, then obeyed.

Lilith’s orders came in a clean chain.

"Third line, step back and open the corridor mouths. Formation keepers, light the lattice. Anchor teams, protect the pillars. Fighters, do not swing until you see the bind."

Then she looked at Lucien.

"Do it," she said.

Lucien raised his hand.

The formation discs he had embedded did not only reinforce the barrier. They were also keyed to a secondary geometry that he and Lilith had discussed in case the enemy adapted.

A kill geometry designed specifically for the Alloykins.

Cosmic light snapped into being across the inner city.

A faint, invisible lattice that ran through streets, around pillars, over rooftops.

Lilith’s plan was simple on the surface and brutal in execution.

They stopped trying to disable individual Alloykins.

They started batch-processing them.

Healers continuously threw talismans not at targets but into the lattice nodes, activating them as anchors. The cosmic attribute spread through the threads like ink through paper.

Then, when an Alloykin moved into a corridor mouth, the lattice grabbed him first.

It tagged the resonance pattern and pinned it to a location. The Astrafer dispersal tried to scatter harm, and the lattice refused to acknowledge it as valid.

The talisman wil force resonance to pay in one place.

A Starforge fighter stepped forward, eyes wide, as an Alloykin’s shimmering confidence became a stutter.

The fighter swung.

The head fell.

A second Alloykin tried to retreat.

The lattice tightened.

He could move, but the debt remained exactly where he stood. His body could not "spread" what it owed.

A second blade cut.

A third body dropped.

The kill corridors became a conveyor of clean deaths.

Starforge’s battle rhythm turned mechanical in the best possible way.

Bind. Confirm. Cut. Rotate.

The only downside was that the talismans would be consumed rapidly. They burned fast, and each use brought them closer to depletion.

...

The injured were pulled back before blood could turn into panic. Healers stabilized them in seconds and pushed them forward again when they could stand. The cycle kept the line from breaking and denied the enemy their favorite weapon. Exhaustion.

Lilith’s voice remained steady through it all.

"Count. Rotate. No chasing. Let them step into the teeth."

Lucien’s gaze lifted.

Above them, Anvil-Horn had stopped acting like a commander and begun acting like a catastrophe with a plan.

He moved through the air like a veteran who had fought wars long before these people had been born.

He did not pause after killing one Alloykin.

He was already turning, already issuing clipped commands to the Starforge Celestial experts around him.

"Hold altitude. Do not drift. Seal as I strike. If you break formation up here, you die alone.

...

Above the torn breach, Condoriano’s amusement died.

He had wanted toys. Now he wanted silence.

His Sky Condor form filled the air. His wings spread wider.

His Law of Horizon unfolded like a decree.

"Distance is mine."

And the sky obeyed.

Alloykins tried to disperse.

The horizon shortened behind them.

Alloykins tried to dodge.

The horizon removed the concept of "sideways" for one breath.

Condoriano appeared where they were going to be, not where they were. His beak and talons struck with cosmic-aligned talismans flickering at the perfect instant.

Resonance hesitated.

Condoriano cut.

Heads fell.

Limbs separated.

Some Alloykins did not even realize they had died until their bodies began slipping out of themselves.

Condoriano’s voice rolled over them like a storm pretending to be polite.

"You may keep your pride," he said. "I only want your parts."

...

Lucien rose into the air, no longer staying behind the line.

He moved like a blade unsheathed.

Cosmic attribute spells fired from his hands in clean bursts.

He coated Morphis with cosmic pressure until the weapon felt less like a blade and more like a verdict.

When he cut an Alloykin, the cosmic coating prevented the spread.

Alloykins began to die faster.

Bodies piled beneath the kill corridors, shining heaps of broken Astrafer that no longer looked invincible. Starforge fighters stepped over them with disciplined indifference, as if the enemy had become scrap waiting to be sorted.

They were winning.

But then, Lucien felt the wrongness deepen like a throat clearing in the dark.

They all felt it. They were all trying to reduce the enemy before the world changed the rules.

And far beyond the torn edge of the barrier, inside Saber’s Domain...

The predator felt it too.

The Eternal Alloykin laughed, bleeding in thin lines that refused to close properly.

"You are doomed," he said with a smirk. "You feel it too, right?"

Saber did not answer.

He moved.

His Moonfang Smilodon form blurred and his claws struck not the Alloykin’s body but the places his body intended to retreat into.

Saber’s Law surged, and the Domain declared a new truth.

Escape routes were prey.

Habits were prey.

Even the Alloykin’s resonance reset, that tiny breath where Astrafer had to "re-decide" how to disperse harm, became prey.

Saber attacked that breath.

The Alloykin’s Astrafer resonance shuddered.

For the first time, dispersal arrived late.

Saber’s claws raked across the resonance pattern and widened the fault-lines he had been carving all fight. The Alloykin roared and tried to flood the Domain with metal threads, trying to anchor himself again.

Saber’s eyes gleamed.

"Anchors are for cattle," Saber said quietly. "Not for prey."

His Domain bit down.

Every thread dulled.

Hierarchy asserted itself.

The Alloykin’s structure began to lose authority inside the Domain.

It’s not enough to kill him but enough to make him bleed more honestly.

Still, the Eternal Alloykin endured.

His Law of Metal surged and compressed into spirals around his core, dispersing and re-welding his torn pattern through sheer mastery. He fought head-on, refusing to collapse.

Then he laughed again, louder.

"GAHAHA. You cannot kill me," he snarled. "They are coming."

Saber’s eyes narrowed.

"They?" Saber asked softly. "You mean your owners?"

The Eternal Alloykin’s expression twitched.

Something wounded in him that was not flesh.

His pride flared.

His attacks turned savage, reckless, eager to prove something to a world that had never loved him.

"You will not call me owned," he hissed and his Law exploded outward like a furnace trying to burn the concept of insult.

Saber took it.

He stepped into the storm and his Domain tightened again, jaw closing.

His voice dropped into something ancient.

"Then die as something free," Saber said. "If you can."

Their clash became a violent spiral of metal and hunger.

Saber could hurt him. But Saber could not end him fast enough.

And the Alloykin Eternal kept buying seconds with his life.

Buying time for something else to arrive.

Saber felt the wrongness press closer.

His instincts screamed a single command.

End it.

Now.

•••

Across the battlefield, the wrongness finally stopped being a warning.

It became an arrival.

Lucien felt it like a knife at the back of his mind.

He had expected it most.

In the vision, Starforge burned.

If the Alloykins could not fulfill the script, then Causality would demand a correction.

And the world’s method of correction was always the same.

Escalate the threat until the outcome matched the record.

Lucien exhaled, bitter.

"That is how twisted this world is," he muttered.

Just then—

The sky bent.

Space divided.

A tear opened that did not look like Saber’s breach, or Starforge’s barrier, or a simple formation fracture.

This tear looked like reality losing an argument.

Four figures stepped out.

Void-walkers.

Three carried the weight of Void Sovereigns, equivalent to a normal Eternal. Their presence made the air feel thin, as if the world wanted to back away from them.

The fourth...

The fourth did not announce himself with aura.

The world announced him by reacting.

The strengthened barrier trembled.

Condoriano’s wings paused mid-beat.

Anvil-Horn’s horn flared, then dimmed.

Even Kaia’s fire flickered.

And the world began to breathe differently as if something enormous had leaned closer to see what was happening.

Lucien stared up at the fourth figure.

Extinction-grade. The kind of presence that turned wars into footnotes.

One word slipped out of Lucien’s mouth before he could stop it.

"Fuck."

The Void-walker’s head tilted slightly, as if amused that something so small still had the courage to speak.