100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 381 - Rewrite

"Sister," Lucien said. "Hold him for me first. I want to try something."

Kaia’s flame rippled, then she condensed just enough for a face to appear. Sweat beaded on her brow even here.

"I will run out of mana soon," she said. "Make it quick, Brother."

She did not wait for reassurance.

Kaia turned into a comet again.

This time she moved with fewer feints and more commitment, which meant one thing. She trusted Lucien enough to burn herself faster.

The Eternal Alloykin tried to counter her with metal spirals and hinge-plates, reflexes drilled by centuries. His Astrafer resonance surged to scatter every impact into harmless vibration.

It failed.

Worse, he could not expand his domain.

His Law of Metal pulsed, searching for an outside to claim. Lucien’s divine energy core denied it politely, like a locked door denying a beggar.

And he still could not kill a Celestial "pest."

His eyes burned as he glanced at Lucien.

An Ascendant stood there, calm as a scholar.

He was watching him like a specimen.

The Alloykin’s mouth opened in a snarl.

No sound came out.

The void did not respect him enough to carry his anger.

That humiliation made his form stutter.

Kaia did not miss the stutter. Her comet-fire clipped his shoulder and the Testament Flame ate a thin line through his pattern, a bright cut that refused to heal cleanly.

Lucien waited.

He did not hurry. He did not flinch when metal scythed past Kaia’s fire and turned into useless arcs.

He was counting.

Kaia was not just attacking. She was forcing the Eternal into rhythm. A reset-breath. A re-weld. A re-decide. Every defense had a fraction where it had to become itself again.

Lucien activated Structural Insight.

The world became strings.

He had wanted to attempt something ever since he acquired this skill.

He lifted his gaze and looked ahead.

The Eternal Alloykin was a lattice of clauses wrapped in layers. Continuity anchors. Reinforcement loops. Reflex contracts. Even the Astrafer resonance was not "a trait," but a written agreement between his structure and the idea of damage.

Kaia, in fire form, looked different under the skill. Her existence was retained, yes, but redistributed. A living covenant of flame with a body clause temporarily suspended. She was not intangible. She was redefined.

Lucien did not admire it.

He stared at the Eternal’s strings until he found the one he wanted.

A binding thick as a pillar, running through everything. A load-bearing clause. The kind that held the whole being together and told the universe, this is still the same person after every repair.

’Now.’

Kaia drove in, comet-fire forcing the Eternal to lift his arms and re-thread his defense.

Lucien blinked at that instant.

He appeared behind the Eternal Alloykin with no wasted motion. Two fingers rose, precise as a surgeon’s scalpel.

He touched the pillar-string.

Resistance hit him instantly.

It was like pushing a mountain with fingertips.

The string did not merely refuse. It pushed back with authority, as if the Eternal’s existence itself was saying, you are not qualified to edit me.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

The Alloykin’s head snapped halfway around, instincts screaming at him even before his senses fully caught up. A counterstrike formed from spiraled Astrafer and condensed law.

Lucien blinked away.

The strike hit nothing.

The Eternal Alloykin shuddered.

His entire body trembled as if some internal foundation had been tugged.

Kaia enveloped him in fire at once. Her Testament Flame folded around his chest like pale judgement. The Eternal tore free with brutal instinct, ripping himself out of the flame by sacrificing layers of resonance that he immediately tried to re-weld.

Lucien exhaled once, controlled.

He had not expected the pillar-string to break.

But he had learned something more valuable.

The Eternal’s structure reacted to contact. Even a failed edit produced a tremor. A moment of vulnerability.

Lucien’s mouth curved slightly.

He thought coldly, ’If I cannot remove the pillar, I will remove the pebbles that make it stand straight.’

He watched Kaia again.

Her comet-fire forced the Eternal into another reset-breath.

Lucien blinked.

He did not reach for the pillar-string this time.

He reached for something smaller.

A directional clause.

A thin set of strings that told the Eternal what "left" and "right" meant. The kind of clause no one thought about until it vanished.

Lucien nudged it.

A gentle pressure, almost polite.

The Eternal’s body flinched.

His head snapped to the wrong angle.

His next step landed slightly sideways, as if the void had rotated without telling him.

Kaia struck the misstep and burned a new line across his ribs.

The Eternal snarled silently and tried to reassert his orientation, forcing his resonance to stabilize.

Lucien smiled faintly.

He touched the clause again, deeper this time, then let the Law of Collapse slide through his fingers like a closing fist.

It told a clause, you no longer get to be true.

The small string buckled.

Lucien felt backlash prick the edges of his spirit, warning him that the world disliked careless edits. He eased off before the resistance could snap back into him.

The Eternal Alloykin suddenly lost all sense of direction.

Not just confusion but actual loss.

He turned to face Kaia and faced the wrong way. He raised his arm to intercept and intercepted empty space. His body behaved like a veteran trapped in a drunken dream.

Kaia’s comet-fire became cruel.

She appeared from angles that no longer existed for him. She clipped his shoulder, his spine, his thigh. Each strike was small. Each strike was chosen. Each strike widened fault-lines in his pattern that refused to stitch cleanly.

Lucien’s eyes gleamed with the calm of someone who had confirmed a hypothesis.

He blinked again.

This time he reached for a perception clause.

The string that told the Eternal which sensory input mattered more when threatened.

Lucien collapsed it.

The Eternal’s pupils dilated as if overwhelmed.

He began reacting to everything. Kaia’s heat. The cosmic void. His own resonance vibration. He tried to defend against all of it and defended against none of it properly.

Kaia struck again and the Testament Flame carved another bright line down his chest.

The Eternal staggered, silent, shaking, as if his own body could no longer agree on what was happening.

Lucien continued.

He did not get greedy. He did not try to edit the pillar again.

He removed supports.

He nudged the clause that coordinated Astrafer dispersal timing, the tiny breath where resonance decided how to spread force.

The Eternal’s pattern tore further.

He tried to compensate by forcing more output.

Lucien collapsed the compensation string the moment it appeared, like snipping a fuse as it was being lit.

The Eternal howled.

No sound came out.

But his whole structure convulsed.

His arms flailed.

Desperately. Like a man trying to grab a railing in darkness, but the concept of "rail" kept being rewritten.

For a second, he looked pitiful.

An undying Eternal reduced to a lost beast, turning in place, searching for a world that would cooperate with him.

Kaia’s comet-fire paused at a distance, hovering like a predator that suddenly realized the prey had become trapped in a net.

Her flame flickered, exhausted.

Lucien did not feel pity.

He had seen too many "immortals" treat lives as spare material.

He stepped closer and chose a final edit.

Stillness.

He located the clause that permitted reactive motion. The covenant that allowed the Eternal to translate intention into movement.

It was small compared to the pillar-string.

Small enough to risk.

Lucien pressed two fingers into it and spoke Collapse through his hand with careful restraint.

The clause folded.

The Eternal Alloykin’s body stopped jerking.

His arms halted mid-lift.

He’s still angry, still trying to reassert itself, but it could not turn intent into motion anymore. His structure was alive and trapped inside itself.

A statue that could still feel.

A furnace that could not open its own door.

Kaia reformed beside Lucien and nearly stumbled. She looked pale. Her breathing was uneven and her mana was close to nothing. Yet her eyes were bright with ugly satisfaction.

"Ruthless," she said.

Then she gave a small nod.

"But acceptable."

She lowered herself into a meditative stance right there in the cosmic void, letting Lucien’s divine energy wash over her like warm rain. Even exhausted, she managed a grin.

Lucien did not look away from the Eternal.

He stared at the still figure for a heartbeat longer, as if making sure the clause held.

Then his hand moved to his inventory.

A single item manifested in his palm.

Covenant of Ending.

A divine rarity drop.

He read its description once more.

<Permanently severs oaths, soul contracts, reincarnation anchors, prepared vessels, bloodline bindings, and continuity mechanisms tied to the chosen target.>

Lucien’s voice was calm, as if he were explaining a procedure to a student.

"You fought well," he said to the motionless Eternal. "But you chose the wrong side."

The Eternal’s eyes widened slightly.

Then something unexpected happened.

A tear slipped from one of the Eternal’s eyes.

He could no longer move. His body was perfectly still. His will was locked in place by rewritten clauses and collapsed strings.

And yet—

The tear fell anyway.

Lucien flinched for a fraction of a second.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the tear as if it were another variable in an equation he had not accounted for.

Then he sighed.

He shook his head once as though dismissing a stray thought that did not deserve to linger.

And then—

Lucien raised the Covenant of Ending.