100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 380 - Extinction vs. Extinction

Lucien stepped out of his divine energy core with the strange void being emerging alongside him.

He did not waste time staring at it.

He lifted two fingers and made one last, precise edit with Structural Insight.

He finished the line and let the script settle into the void being’s strings of existence like a hook sliding into old scar tissue.

Then—

Every eye snapped open at once. Dozens. Hundreds. Too many.

The pupils were not round. They were seams, like someone had split reality into eyelids and something hungry was peeking through.

For a heartbeat, the abomination did nothing.

It only searched.

Its eyes shifted in a synchronized sweep as if the entire thing were a single mind scanning the battlefield for a scent it remembered from pain.

Goblin.

The moment it found it, its gaze locked.

On the Extinction-grade Void-Walker whose hand still carried the Covenant-Breaker’s blood like a disputed stain.

A roar tore out of it. The kind of sound that skipped the ear and spoke directly to the bone, telling marrow to remember what it meant to be prey.

Its tentacles sharpened. Edges formed where edges should not be. The air around each limb looked slightly wrong, as if the world was struggling to decide where the limb ended and the damage began.

Lucien’s voice was calm beside that horror.

"Go," he murmured.

The void being went.

The Extinction-grade Void-Walker’s expression shifted to wariness for the first time since his arrival.

His eyes narrowed and his head tilted a fraction, as if he were finally looking at something worth naming.

"This cannot be..." he said quietly.

The words came out slower than anything he had said before, as if saying them made them more real.

"Of all things. How in the universe can an Abyss-Eyed Devourer appear here?"

The name hung in the air like a curse.

Abyss-Eyed Devourer.

It was not born of the Abyss. Yet to name it after the Abyss was fitting, for it was fearsome enough to carry that name without shame.

Every head turned.

Even those mid-fight faltered for half a breath as the dread washed over them.

The Extinction-grade Void-Walker’s presence had been cold and suffocating.

This was different.

This was wild.

This dread did not threaten the mind.

It threatened the body’s right to remain intact.

The three Void Sovereigns went still in the air as instinct took over and rewrote their stances into defensive angles. Their cosmic light flared without conscious thought, not as attack but as reflexive denial.

One of them whispered.

"No."

Another’s jaw tightened.

"That thing is not supposed to be here."

The third stared at Lucien as if staring at a crack in the script of the world.

"What are you?"

Below, Condoriano lay in a shallow crater where his fall had bitten into the stone. His wings were half-folded, trembling. Blood stained his feathers.

And he was laughing.

Hard.

Hoarse.

"Good," Condoriano wheezed. He coughed, spat blood, then laughed again. "Good. No wonder. So that is your backup."

Lucien flicked him a glance without turning his head fully.

"Brother, do not die," Lucien said.

Condoriano’s eyes gleamed.

"Do not waste a performance like this," he rumbled back.

The Abyss-Eyed Devourer surged.

A tentacle snapped down toward the Extinction-grade like a guillotine made of void.

The Extinction-grade Void-Walker moved at last.

His Law of Anti-Meridian flared.

The space between him and the incoming strike unlinked. Adjacency died. The attack should have become meaningless.

For most beings, that would have been the end of the attempt.

The Devourer did not care.

Its own Law surged.

Continuance.

The Law that let void-born exist where existence should have required justification. A gentle law, in theory, turned predatory in the hands of instinct.

Continuance in the Devourer’s grasp asserted itself as absolute persistence.

It was as though it declared to the world... This action is already happening, therefore it will continue happening until it is finished.

The tentacle struck anyway.

Through inevitability.

The collision did not produce a sound.

It produced a distortion. The sky dimmed for a blink as if reality had flinched.

The Extinction-grade’s body slid back half a step in midair. His feet did not move. The coordinate did.

His eyes sharpened further.

The Devourer howled again and wrapped three tentacles around the space where the Extinction-grade "stood," trying to drag him into contact by denying the concept of "elsewhere."

Anti-Meridian answered, severing the "route" of contact itself.

Continuance answered, refusing to accept the severing as final.

The two Laws argued like cosmic grammar being ripped apart and rewritten mid-sentence.

Then the other Void-Walkers moved...

Toward their leader.

Their instincts screamed that if the Extinction-grade fell, everything else became irrelevant.

One Sovereign’s voice came sharp with urgency.

"No. This thing cannot be tamed. If it drifts, it will tear through everything."

Another’s eyes were wide now, no longer arrogant.

"It will attack whatever moves," he said. "It will attack whatever breathes."

The healer Sovereign’s hands tightened.

"Redirect it," he snapped. "Push it into the pests. Help the leader. We end this quickly."

They tried.

They surged toward the Devourer together.

And Starforge surged with them.

Anvil-Horn rose like a warhammer drawn from a furnace.

"Not so fast," Anvil-Horn said, and the air around his horn gleamed as his Law of Forging carved a contract into the sky.

Within that contract, movement had cost.

Every step the Sovereigns took toward the Extinction-grade came with resistance like chains of law tightening around their ankles.

Saber moved beside him.

"You came expecting worship," Saber said softly. "You should have come expecting teeth."

Starlit Codex flared from the Sovereigns in spears of stellar script.

Starforge’s counter-script rose to meet it and the air filled with colliding meanings.

The Void-Walkers’ scripture tried to write submission into the spirit.

Lucien’s version denied the grammar.

One Sovereign hissed.

"That scripture..." he snarled. "That is not yours."

Saber’s smile showed a sliver of fang.

"No," Saber said. "That is why it hurts."

The dozens of Celestial experts intercepted the healer Sovereign before he could shift position and rejoin the Extinction-grade.

They did not duel him.

They layered him.

Formation. Timing. Anchors. Interrupts.

The healer Sovereign’s face twisted.

"Move," he barked.

The deadlock formed in three layers.

Above, extinction-grade law battled extinction-grade instinct.

Around, Sovereigns tried to regroup and were denied by coordinated pressure.

Lucien watched it all for one breath.

Then he moved.

He did not look satisfied.

He looked busy.

"Time to kill my first Eternal," he murmured, and his attention shifted from the Devourer back inward.

The Eternal Alloykin.

Lucien’s eyes cooled.

Even suppressed by the Cosmic Attribute, the Alloykin remained terrifying. Kaia was holding him back, but only just. Her flames carved lines across his Astrafer body, yet each exchange cost her more than she allowed herself to show.

Lucien did not hesitate.

He stepped into his divine energy core once more.

This time, he entered not as a watcher.

But as an executioner.

•••

Inside the void, the Eternal Alloykin was already snarling, bleeding in stubborn lines as Kaia’s Testament Flame burned the lie that Astrafer could refuse consequence forever.

Kaia’s smile was strained now.

The Eternal Alloykin lunged again, refusing to accept the humiliating truth that the void itself was cosmic authority.

His eyes were wild.

Yet Kaia understood him perfectly.

Lucien arrived beside her like a blade arriving at a throat.

Then Lucien flicked his finger lightly, as though granting Kaia the authority to speak within the void.

Kaia’s grin widened the moment she realized her voice could finally carry through the void.

"Oh," she said. "You are joining."

Lucien’s gaze did not leave the Eternal Alloykin.

"Yes," Lucien said. "We finish him before the outside changes again."

•••

Outside, the Extinction-grade Void-Walker’s eyes snapped sideways mid-clash.

Toward the place Lucien had vanished.

His expression tightened in a way that finally betrayed irritation.

Anti-Meridian flared around his pupils as if he were trying to deny the very concept of "hidden."

His gaze sharpened again.

Then it sharpened more.

As if he could see the seam of another layer of reality and the hand moving behind it.

"You are not merely Ascendant," he murmured.

The Abyss-Eyed Devourer struck again, forcing him to stop thinking and start surviving.

But the sentence had already been written into his mind.

The human was an anomaly.

A variable that could not be measured.

And the moment a Void-Walker decided something could not be measured, it became either a scripture to steal...

...or a mistake to erase.

The sky trembled as tentacles and cosmic light collided again. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Starforge’s defenders gritted their teeth and held the Sovereigns away from their leader.

And deep inside Lucien’s core, the Eternal Alloykin turned his head toward Lucien and finally, for the first time, hesitated.

Because the way Lucien looked at him was not hatred.

It was bookkeeping.

Lucien raised his hand.

Kaia’s flame brightened.

And the hunt for the Eternal began in earnest.