100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 421 - Start

The moment the four women pointed at one another, the resonance peaked.

Then... all four of them sat down at the same time.

It was as if some old law buried beneath memory had seized their bodies and reminded them what to do before their minds could interfere.

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

The resonance between them had not weakened.

It had deepened.

He could feel the elemental Laws moving through their bodies in layered waves. Earth, Fire, Air, and Water were no longer merely present. They were calling to one another, seeking a rhythm, building a circuit that had not existed while they stood apart.

Lucien did not leave them where they were.

He blinked with all four of them at once, bringing them back into his original inner world where the elemental Laws were strongest and the ambient pressure of his core would support their breakthrough instead of interrupting it.

He placed them in a broad circle.

Then he moved.

Formation arrays unfolded around them one after another.

The air trembled.

The ground beneath them dimly answered.

Water condensed along the circle’s edges. Heat rose in careful currents. Dust and stone shifted at the periphery. The wind itself began circling them.

Lucien stepped back and studied the scene for a moment.

With their eyes closed and mouths shut, the four of them looked almost absurdly dignified.

He shook his head.

"I should preserve this image," he muttered.

Whatever happened after they woke, it was clear enough already that the four of them were stronger together than apart.

This was not just elemental compatibility.

This was old familiarity, fate, and law all pressing down in the same direction.

Lucien left them there.

There was nothing more to do for the moment except let them grow.

He returned to reality.

•••

That same day, Lucien went to visit the two Celestial-realm seniors who had once stood between death and the younger generation during the battle against the Varkhaal and Nephralis Eternals.

The first was recovering well.

His mana vessels had returned to normal. He was no longer crippled. He could already walk on his own, though not yet with his full former strength.

Seraphine’s book had changed everything.

When the two seniors saw Lucien enter, they rose as much as their condition allowed and bowed.

Lucien frowned at once.

"There is no need for that."

One of them smiled tiredly.

"There is every need, Territory Lord."

Lucien shook his head.

"And there is no need for that either."

The other senior let out a weak laugh.

"Please don’t call us seniors anymore," he said. "That stopped fitting a while ago."

That earned the smallest curve from Lucien’s mouth.

Then the first elder spoke more seriously.

"We spoke about it already," he said. "When we recover fully, we are willing to place ourselves under you."

Lucien’s gaze rested on them a moment longer.

There was no pretense in their expression.

No calculation.

Only gratitude, respect, and the calm acceptance of men who had weighed their future and chosen the direction they wanted to face.

What Lucien did not know was that Eirene had already prepared the ground long before his return.

She had already spoken to the people who remained with her.

Not with manipulation, but with consistency.

She had told them what kind of land he intended to build, and why following him would not mean lowering themselves.

So when Lucien appeared, the idea of standing under his banner did not feel abrupt.

It felt like a continuation of a path already being walked.

Eirene had not forced loyalty.

She had cultivated it.

And because her intentions were sincere, the people around her had accepted that sincerity in turn.

Lucien, ignorant of most of that preparation, simply nodded.

"I won’t treat you badly," he said.

The words were plain.

But from him, that plainness meant more than ornament ever could.

The two seniors bowed their heads again, this time not out of protocol, but relief.

Loyal people like them were rare.

Lucien knew that.

He intended to keep them.

•••

Later, he visited the Desert Folk settlements.

Sahrin and Khasari greeted him with visible happiness.

The two siblings had changed.

Not only in realm but also in bearing.

They had always possessed the dignity of old blood, but now it had been tempered by responsibility.

They moved like true leaders, not merely prince and princess by birth, but people who had spent years carrying others through difficult change.

They were leading more than a million Desert Folk now.

Being born into royalty had made leadership familiar.

It had not made it easy.

Lucien could see the work in their eyes.

The sharpened patience.

The quiet confidence of those who had no choice but to grow into their role.

He tested their progress personally.

It did not disappoint him.

The living tattoos flowing across their arms and backs had become astonishingly refined.

They no longer felt like markings that could become weapons.

They felt like extensions of intent itself.

With a thought, Sahrin shaped hers into a curved dune-blade that shimmered with heated air. Khasari answered by shaping a broad sigil from his shoulder into a shield-lance hybrid edged with golden fire.

The Scale of Dominion Lucien had once given them had fully merged into that system. Now their living patterns carried the bonus of fire enchantment naturally.

Lucien watched several exchanges between them.

Their control was excellent.

The tattoos responded with perfect synchrony because they were not external gear.

They were part of their bodies.

In battle, that made them terrifyingly smooth.

"It’s like my Morphis," Lucien murmured, "if Morphis had been born with its wielder."

Sahrin smiled.

Khasari looked a little too pleased with that comparison.

The desert they lived in was no longer brutal.

It had been softened intelligently. Oasis districts were distributed between controlled dunes. Windbreak formations kept storms from becoming disastrous. Trade lanes had been marked and stabilized.

Eirene had done well here.

But Lucien could already see what still needed improvement.

The Desert Folk deserved an environment that was not merely survivable, but optimal.

He made a note of it.

•••

The next day, development truly began.

This time not as a dream or a future sketch in Lucien’s head.

Starforge took the lead.

Of course they did.

If something vast needed to be raised from land and stone, there was no one more suited to drive the process.

Lucien consulted with Anvil-Horn, Eirene, Astraea, several senior craftsmen, planners from Verdant Veil, and other important people.

They did not start by building randomly.

They began with a territorial logic.

The center would become the capital.

That much was obvious.

The floating Palace of Stillness hung above it like a sovereign’s seal.

It was invisible to most eyes now, and though it cast no shadow below, everyone could feel that something immense and important occupied the sky overhead.

Lucien had already confirmed through Eirene that the palace and everything inside it belonged to him.

So the capital below it would be the administrative, strategic, and symbolic heart of the region.

He watched them brainstorm.

And smiled.

These people were no longer separate visitors, refugees, factions, or rescued groups.

They were becoming his people.

The old name, Karesh Desert, would not do.

That belonged to what the place had been.

Now it would be called Lootwell.

Something his.

•••

The four elemental women had not yet woken from their meditation.

Meanwhile, the work had already started.

Lucien looked into the jade slab and watched the movement of labor through the territory.

Starforge was terrifyingly efficient.

Anvil-Horn alone had the force of ten thousand men. An Eternal wielding the Law of Forging for the sake of construction was such absurd overkill that Lucien almost felt sorry for the land being shaped beneath him.

They started from the middle.

The first thing to rise in Lootwell’s center was the Ground Crown of the territory.

So the planning developed like this:

At the exact center beneath the floating palace would be the Sovereign Circle, a vast elevated district for rulership, law administration, treasury, archives, and command halls. This would house the central government of Lootwell and serve as the anchor through which Lucien could govern the wider territory.

Surrounding it would be the High City, built for practitioners who valued movement, formation access, training rooms, and aura circulation more than crowded streets and market noise.

From there, the city would unfold into major districts.

The Forge Quarter would go first. A power base needed weapons, tools, construction materials, and formation-grade components before it needed decoration.

The Law Hall District would follow soon after: towers, lecture courts, repositories, comprehension chambers, and eventually public law libraries modeled after what Lucien had seen with the Liberators.

The Practice Grounds would stretch beyond that, divided by intensity. Some for Metamorphosis and below. Some for Transcendents. Some isolated entirely for Ascendants and future Celestial training.

The Trade Rings would be placed farther outward, where future caravans, merchants, and allied factions could enter without intruding immediately into the core. Lucien had no intention of building a capital that let strangers walk straight into its heart.

Beyond the capital proper, the vast territory would not be arranged as one uniform civilization.

That would be foolish.

Lootwell was too large, and its people too diverse.

So they planned greater zones rather than mere city districts.

To the west, a preserved and enhanced Dune Dominion for the Desert Folk.

To another quadrant, a future Wild Zone for monsters where different elemental habitats could be engineered.

And this was only the beginning. There remained endless room for expansion, and creation in the years to come.

Lucien approved the broader framework at once.

This will be a territory for practitioners, races, and beings whose needs were shaped by law, pressure, element, and combat.

So the city itself would be grand.

And the materials used for the first capital foundations were not ordinary.

Void metals.

Anvil-Horn had nearly laughed when Lucien asked whether using such materials for city foundations was excessive.

His answer had been immediate.

"Good," he had said. "Then it will last."

•••

Lucien watched all of this through the jade slab.

He would, of course, provide the materials.

He had too many to worry otherwise.

From the goblins and gargoyles alone, his stores contained mountains and mountains of void metals and rare resources. More than enough to start the capital and sustain the first large-scale build.

He could already imagine the shape of the future.

It would take time.

But now, for the first time in a long while, he had that.

Time.

Then his gaze turned inward.

Too many people still lived inside him.

That was practical for transport.

It was not ideal for the long term.

When large populations practice inside his divine energy core, they were drawing from him.

From the ambient energy sustained by his existence.

With millions upon millions of people breathing, training, absorbing, and refining at once, the drain could become dangerous if a crisis struck at the wrong time.

Lucien smiled faintly.

For now, it was manageable.

Later, if an emergency came while too much of his strength was tied up maintaining entire populations...

That would become a real problem.

Which meant Lootwell had to rise quickly.