100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 382 - Eternal’s Death

Lucien raised the Covenant of Ending.

It was small in his hand. A thin obsidian disc, black enough to make the void feel pale by comparison. It was etched with fractures that never held still.

The lines crawled and re-formed as if reality kept trying to stitch the disc shut and failing, again and again, leaving only a memory of repair that could never finish.

Then Lucien fed it.

His inner realm answered his will, and divine energy surged into the disc in a hard, hungry stream.

The pull was immediate.

Kaia’s breath caught. The divine energy that had felt endless a moment ago thinned like a tide being yanked back from shore.

Even the still Eternal Alloykin’s pattern trembled. Something in him understood that an authority older than struggle had entered the room.

The disc drank without grace.

It absorbed Lucien’s divine energy like an unstable beast devouring a lantern. The fractures brightened. The etched lines became cuts through perception, making the eye slip whenever it tried to follow them.

Lucien’s brow rose slightly.

The System had not exaggerated. It truly requires an immense amount of energy to activate.

The Covenant swelled in presence without changing size.

When the disc finally reached saturation, the fractures stopped crawling.

They aligned.

They formed a single pattern that looked less like damage and more like a seal stamped by a universe that had grown tired of being negotiated with.

Kaia swallowed hard.

"Brother..." she murmured, and did not finish. Even in her exhaustion, she felt it. The disc had become difficult to look at. Not because it was bright, but because the mind refused to accept that something so small could contain so much finality.

Lucien held it steady, letting the sensation pass over him like cold rain.

And then he activated it.

The Covenant flared inward, as if it inverted the space around Lucien and made the universe lean toward him.

A quiet shift rolled through Lucien’s awareness.

Knowledge entered his mind.

He understood what the Covenant truly was.

It was a formal authority. It can identify every place where the Eternal’s existence had been allowed to persist.

Every oath he had made to remain. Every anchor he had prepared in advance. Every contingency he had hidden in bloodlines, in vessels, in contracts written into laws and in the world’s memory of him.

The Covenant issued a single ruling that made all these irrelevant.

It severed permission.

Lucien saw it clearly now, like Structural Insight but colder.

Eternals are difficult to truly kill because their existence is upheld by layered agreements with reality itself.

The stronger the Law they integrated with, the more the world recognized them as "still valid," even after death. Their presence echoed through the Law’s domain. Their continuity could be rebuilt by the world’s own inertia. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

That was what made them Eternal.

Lucien smiled faintly as the understanding settled.

Then he selected the Eternal Alloykin as the target.

The Covenant of Ending responded instantly.

The fractures on its surface shifted again and rearranged into a new geometry that pointed at the Alloykin like a compass needle pointing at a grave.

And then the second restriction arrived.

Lucien felt it before he saw it.

A sensation like a judge’s gaze turning and fixing on him from outside the universe.

The void inside his core shivered. The space around him tightened as if the world had just taken attendance and written his name in ink that could not be scrubbed away.

A mark formed... on his presence.

A thin ring of black fracture-light appeared behind him, suspended in the void like a halo made of verdict-lines.

The same fracture pattern as the Covenant, but stretched into a sigil that hovered at shoulder height, visible only because it distorted the cosmic void behind it.

Kaia stared at it, eyes widening.

Lucien felt the meaning of it press into him with uncomfortable clarity.

He understood the danger instantly.

Such a mark would attract things.

So Lucien did not hesitate anymore.

He needed to use it quickly and get rid of the mark before the outside shifted again.

His gaze locked onto the Eternal Alloykin.

The Eternal’s eyes were wide now with something that looked like clarity.

His body remained perfectly still under Lucien’s collapsed clause. Yet whatever remained of his instincts screamed at him, hammering against unmoving muscles, trying to force the universe to offer one more loophole.

He opened his mouth.

No sound came.

He strained, and his Astrafer pattern trembled, desperate to reassert the old agreements that had always saved him.

It failed.

For a heartbeat, he looked almost innocent.

Even monsters, when stripped of motion and stripped of excuses, can briefly resemble men.

Kaia flinched behind Lucien.

Not from the Eternal.

From Lucien.

His aura had changed.

Lucien stepped closer.

His eyes were cold.

The Covenant of Ending rose behind him, hovering like an observer, like a record the world itself would later consult.

Lucien spoke quietly.

He summoned Morphis.

The weapon flowed into his hand and transformed into a scythe. Cosmic attribute gathered along its edge until the void itself leaned closer, as if eager to be part of the cut.

Lucien raised the scythe.

He did not announce himself.

He did not posture.

He simply became the act.

The blade fell.

The Eternal Alloykin didn’t even have time to react.

His neck separated in a single, smooth line.

No struggle.

No dragging.

An executioner delivering a decree.

The head hovered, as if the Eternal’s continuity mechanisms tried one last time to argue that this outcome was not allowed.

Then the Covenant of Ending surged.

Space distorted around the bisected Alloykin authoritatively, like a seal pressing down on wax.

Lucien saw it with Structural Insight.

He saw the strings.

He saw the pillar-string.

And he watched the Covenant of Ending sever them all in one ruling, declaring them invalid like a judge.

The pillar-string buckled, then snapped.

The Eternal’s entire existence shuddered.

His remaining pattern tried to reach outward, tried to locate any route, any stored "elsewhere," any agreement that would let him continue.

There was none.

The Covenant had ended permission itself.

The Eternal Alloykin dissolved into nothing that could be recognized as "him."

Then the System chimed.

A confirmation for the kill.

A rainbow-colored cube drop manifested where the Eternal had been.

Lucien stared.

Speechless for a moment.

Another hypothesis was proven.

He had been right all along.

If the pillar-string could be destroyed, the Eternal could be killed fully.

He still did not have the raw power to do it. The resistance and backlash were too great.

But with enough strength...

Even an Eternal could be ended.

Kaia exhaled shakily and forced a smile that looked half admiring, half horrified.

"That was..." she began, then stopped.

Lucien lowered the scythe.

The fracture-halo mark behind him still hovered.

He did not look triumphant.

Because he had just slain an Eternal.

And the world outside would not ignore that for long.

Just then—

The Covenant of Ending dimmed.

Its presence thinned, as if it had finished its duty and refused to linger.

Lucien stored it in his inventory.

He then turned his gaze to Kaia.

"Sister," Lucien said quietly, "Help Starforge hold the line first. Save the injured."

Lucien did not wait for an answer.

With a flick of his fingers, Kaia vanished.

A heartbeat later, she reappeared below, where the battlefield inside his inner realm still raged.

Lucien stayed in the void.

Alone with the aftermath.

And the mark.

Behind him, the fracture-halo still hovered at shoulder height.

Lucien sat cross-legged in midair and exhaled once.

Then he tried to remove it.

He summoned the Law of Fire and fed it into the ring.

Flame licked across fracture-lines.

The halo did not burn.

It did not even warm.

Lucien narrowed his eyes and tried the Law of Collapse, focusing on the ring as if it were a clause that could be folded.

Nothing.

The halo did not resist.

It simply remained, untouched, like a verdict written outside the jurisdiction of his current realm.

Lucien’s fingers tightened slightly.

He activated Structural Insight.

The world broke into strings.

His own existence became readable.

The halo... was not.

His mind slammed into a blank wall.

Denial.

It was as if the halo carried a rule that said: You are the executor, not the author.

Lucien’s vision blurred. For a fraction of a second, he felt his thoughts stretch thin, like paper held too close to fire.

He shut the skill off instantly.

Lucien swallowed.

Uncertainty pressed cold against his ribs.

If he could not understand the mark, he could not remove it.

And if he carried it too long, something would notice.

Lucien stared at the halo once more.

Then—

The void rippled.

A presence surfaced in front of him.

The Abyssal One.

His voice came.

"Reckless."

The Abyssal One lifted nothing that could be called a hand, and yet the void itself stilled, as if obeying an elder rule.

"I cannot have you wear that mark for long," the Abyssal One continued. "If you are noticed too soon, I am noticed as well. And if I am noticed... your battle ends before it becomes a story."

Lucien’s heart beat once.

"Senior," Lucien said. "You came."

The Abyssal One’s presence did not brighten. It did not soften.

It simply remained.

"Do not mistake intervention for affection," the Abyssal One said. "I am acting for survival. Yours, and mine."

Lucien did not argue.

His gaze flicked to the halo again.

The Abyssal One followed it.

Then the abyss around him moved.

A Law unfolded.

Nihility.

It expanded and touched the fracture-halo.

For the first time, Lucien saw the halo react.

It tightened.

The verdict-lines brightened into sharper wrongness, and the ring pushed back as if offended. The space around it warped, trying to preserve the mark’s authority by sheer insistence.

Lucien watched, breath held.

The halo was fighting.

Against a Law from the Abyss.

That single fact made Lucien’s stomach drop slightly. He had worn something that carried enough weight to contest an abyssal being.

The Abyssal One did not hurry.

Nihility pressed again.

The halo’s fracture-lines began to loosen as if the ring was being convinced it had never been necessary.

A thread at a time, the mark lost coherence.

The ring sagged. Its geometry became imperfect.

Then the black verdict-light thinned into a faint shimmer, and the shimmer unraveled into nothing.

It... ceased to be.

The void snapped back into natural alignment.

The pressure on Lucien’s presence vanished.

Lucien exhaled a breath he had not realized he was holding.

He looked up, and the glow in his eyes sharpened into respect.

"Senior," Lucien said, "thank you."

The Abyssal One’s reply was immediate.

"Do not thank me. Learn."

Lucien’s jaw tightened faintly.

He absorbed the rebuke without flinching.

The Abyssal One’s presence began to recede.

But before he vanished, he spoke again, and the words carried the weight of something that had outlived worlds.

"I will not have you noticed by them yet," he said. "You are not ready."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

’Them again.’

The word tasted like a blade hidden under velvet.

The Abyssal One continued, and this time his tone sharpened into warning.

"The adversary is not finished. Do not assume what came today was the correction. Do not assume the ones outside were the hand that Fate intended to use."

Lucien’s pulse slowed, controlled, but his mind accelerated.

If the Void-Walkers were not the correction...

Then what was?

The Abyssal One’s presence thinned further.

"If you survive what comes next," he said, "I will tell you a small truth about myself."

Then he was gone.

Lucien remained seated in the cosmic void, staring at the empty space where the Abyssal One had been.

He was not comforted.

He was alerted.

The Abyssal One had helped him without asking for anything.

Lucien’s curiosity sharpened into a quiet edge.

And beneath that curiosity, something colder settled.

If the Void-Walkers were not Fate’s correction...

Then Fate had not spent its true coin yet.

Lucien rose.