100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 467 - Time’s Up

Dust drifted down gradually.

Convergence hung motionless in mid-air.

Calmness now etched his features.

That proved far grimmer.

They now battled within Lucien’s domain, yet Convergence showed no sign of disturbance there either. His shell still bore evident wounds. Torn flesh spasmed where the Soulbrand Claw had torn in. Destructive specks Lucien had shoved into him kept gnawing from inside.

Lucien observed with keen focus.

There—a tell.

Lips tightened faintly. Shoulders twitched back just a bit. A flash of unease leaked out before the facade reformed.

Next, the wounds started fading.

Reaching the point where they no longer signified anything.

Lucien grasped it instantly.

Convergence wasn’t just withstanding the ruinous laws within. Through his own power, he dragged their vanishing point ahead, compelling that end to manifest right away.

The laws Lucien had embedded in those injuries didn’t dissolve on their own.

Convergence hastened their demise forcibly.

Then Convergence met his gaze and grinned.

“Congratulations,” he uttered. “You’ve achieved what few ever boast of. You shattered a Primordial’s domain before your end.”

His eyes drifted upward toward the sky.

“But that choice was a mistake too.”

Lucien’s stare turned steely.

Convergence’s smile lingered.

“That shattering made too much racket. Another of my kind will sense it. And he, unlike me, holds no restraint on his pace.”

A brief hush fell.

“Even I dread facing him fully.”

Lucien offered no reply.

Convergence continued mildly, “Thus, I’ll wrap this up fast. I wouldn’t want you whining later about Primordials ganging up on a Celestial Realm.”

His gaze intensified.

“Though, inevitably, that might happen anyway.”

Then he vanished.

Lucien responded without delay.

The Crown of Creation ignited.

Within his domain, concepts surged up in vast sheets and tiers. Principles took solid form.

A “Delay” barrier unfurled across Convergence’s approach. A “Deflect” grid warped nearby paths. A constricting “Halt” crown materialized like see-through law-skeleton in the sky.

In his domain, Lucien summoned these effortlessly, on pure instinct.

He unleashed them.

Yet Convergence obliterated every one.

With a single Edict spoken.

“Resolve.”

The world listened.

And complied.

Lucien sensed the decree sweep through his domain like a verdict delivered before the case concluded.

His freshly forged concepts shattered immediately.

Suddenly, Convergence loomed at his side.

He swung a fist.

Lucien attempted evasion.

But failed utterly.

Space near his form had decreed the direct path between them ended in collision.

He felt drawn into the blow, as if his dodge itself endorsed the strike.

Such was Convergence’s true terror.

He didn’t just seize you.

He forced your flight to aid your doom.

The fist connected solidly.

Lucien perished once more.

Saving radiance erupted from him right away, hurling him back into renewed life with savage momentum.

He crashed down, slid across the surface, refusing any moment of stunned inaction.

He’d witnessed plenty.

Convergence’s fist lay fractured.

Crimson streamed over the knuckles. Bone jutted askew under the flesh. The shell hadn’t endured the strike’s full unleash unscathed.

Lucien’s eyes gleamed sharply.

There it stood.

The shell remained too fragile still.

Convergence could slay him with that form.

Yet the form exacted a heavy toll.

Lucien surged forward instantly.

He triggered yet another drop.

Stillvoice Conduit — Enables the creation of domains where sound-based phenomena can be precisely controlled.

Silence engulfed the battlefield.

Sound ceased propagating freely in Lucien’s domain. Air flowed on. Collisions persisted. Yet sound waves no longer traveled as a dependable carrier.

This would compel Convergence to depend less on vocal Edicts.

Simultaneously, Lucien invoked another artifact.

Covenant of Unspoken Law.

Now his commands bypassed voice entirely.

Authority flowed straight from his will.

Convergence clenched his mangled fist once.

By Lucien’s second activation’s end, healing had already commenced on the hand.

He mouthed words.

No audio emerged.

But Lucien deciphered them from the lips.

[You have peculiar items. Even I haven’t seen some of them.]

Then Convergence lunged anew.

Lucien countered wordlessly.

In his thoughts, Edicts cascaded silently.

“Delay.”

“Bend.”

“Thin.”

“Slip.”

Concurrently, the Crown of Creation birthed layered concepts afresh.

Mirrored vector barriers. Distorted gravity lattices left incomplete. Slender “Misplace” and “Late” concept-ribs aligned precisely where Convergence must pass for the swiftest path.

For a fleeting instant, Lucien believed success.

Then Convergence struck regardless.

His fist didn’t strike first.

From shattered knuckles burst packed shockwaves, mana thickened to solidity like fate weighted down. Not singular, but a salvo—each so dense it seemed frozen until crashing upon him.

Each Convergence punch fragmented into pursuing effects, lingering even sans hand arrival.

Every launch exacted further price.

His hand worsened per salvo. Skin rent open. Bone gleamed amid shredded meat. The shell wounded itself overtly to sustain such onslaughts.

He pressed on relentlessly.

Lucien conjured fresh countermeasures.

Lionmane Timing Sigil — A rotating ward-crest that categorizes incoming force and raises defense at the optimal moment.

Loadbearing Crest — A sigil-carved plate that stabilizes nearby allies, reducing knockback and structural collapse effects.

The Timing Sigil whirled to life ahead, sorting each assault and angling perfect resistance for that vital split-second.

The Loadbearing Crest anchored around Lucien, bracing his form against cumulative strain to avert disintegration.

Meanwhile, the Mantle of the Infinite warped light and space encircling him, trimming distant force so blows landed diminished. Eclipse Gloves absorbed ambient magic from the storm—black left devouring force shards, white right blazing as Lucien channeled pilfered power into bolstering defenses.

It held firm.

Through the initial dozen blows.

Then the Lionmane Timing Sigil fractured.

Then exploded.

The Loadbearing Crest creaked under piling stress yet endured to shield him from pulping in the subsequent barrage.

Convergence never faltered.

Fresh assaults hammered in.

And worse—

they pursued.

Missing his core, they arced and realigned, as if collision abhorred denial and hunted the timeline where it triumphed.

Lucien swore silently.

Tracking dooms.

Naturally, Convergence devised such monstrosity.

He phased into reflective realms via Boots of Reflection, flickering momentarily into echo-dimensions where strikes hit phantom Luciens and pierced lagged mirrors. Yet those refractions began buckling under Convergence’s onslaught.

One grazed him.

Another nailed him mid-shift between realms.

A third smashed his left flank, fourth chasing the initial split like awaiting cue.

Lucien’s left arm detonated from the socket.

For a split second, no agony.

Mere void.

Then torment crashed in full.

His frame had toughened immensely now. Enough that typical divine hits barely registered. He’d immersed in the Abyssal Pool, after all.

Lesser foes wouldn’t lose limbs.

Lesser foes would vaporize.

Lucien clenched jaws, jammed a seed into the mangled socket, and triggered it at once.

Seed of Reversion — A seed capable of reverting a single part of the body to a previous state.

The lost arm regenerated.

Bone. Nerves. Sinew. Epidermis.

It reformed with sickening haste.

Convergence noted it and intensified.

Lucien endured mere breaths longer till a flawless hit unmade him.

Death claimed him anew.

Talisman glow revived him somewhat distant.

Three lives lingered.

Stillvoice Conduit enforced total quiet in the domain, making the clash somehow more harrowing without noise. Blows registered visually alone. Punches arrived sans boom. Ruin unfolded voicelessly. Nothing but movement, shattering, gore, and unrelenting fallout endured.

Lucien’s breaths evened out.

Convergence mended his fists amid barrages now.

That counted for much.

Lucien denied him full respite.

He ignited Dragon Beast Mode.

Transformation hit instantly. Draconic might coursed through, melding armor and skin into fiercer warform. Power surged into limbs. Senses honed razor-sharp.

Lucien charged straight at him.

If Convergence insisted wielding the shell’s ruined fists, Lucien would exact toll per clash.

Genuine shock flickered across Convergence’s face for the first time across many Chapters of strife.

Then his smile returned.

And he engaged.

They smashed together.

Lucien landed first. Dragon-tempered might breached Convergence’s guard.

Aegis of Rebirth orbited his side in tiers, primed to undo lethal slips beyond his foresight. Mantle’s glow throbbed beneath skin, recycling his expended essence. Black glove gulped errant mana. White glove hurled it back as searing flares amid strikes.

Convergence countered unarmed.

Fractured hand notwithstanding.

That’s when Lucien sensed it vividly.

Even via flawed shell, Convergence’s melee prowess chilled.

No need for ornate techniques. Contact sufficed.

Each block veered toward peril. Each graze skewed paths ahead. Each rebuff coaxed Lucien toward lethal stances.

Lucien faltered in raw combat.

He recognized it.

Thus, he corrupted the purity.

Wordless Edicts raced in his mind.

“Shift.”

“Stall.”

“Break.”

“Turn.”

Amid brawling, conceptual hurdles sprouted in his domain.

Gravity warps like snares, half-formed platforms, illusory perches, lagging bounces, sliver-thin stasis zones flashing existent for blinks before vanishing.

Lucien wielded them as unseen terrain, forcing Convergence to battle him and environment alike.

Thus he survived.

For once, near equals clashed.

Lucien retreated under pressure. Convergence staggered from true hits. Dragon scales clashed with mortal meat, both yielding.

One Convergence blow snapped Lucien’s jaw. Aegis retaliated, rewinding the havoc once and shoving it back pre-occurrence.

Lucien countered via Morphis and white-glove burst that charred Convergence’s flank.

Neither yielded.

Lucien’s form howled in protest. Convergence’s shell splintered further.

Yet the core reality held.

Lucien gained no victory.

He merely tormented the shell.

Precisely then—

Convergence broke off sharply.

He retreated a step.

Gazed skyward.

Exhaled near-resigned.

In the mute domain, lips shaped words plain for Lucien.

[Time’s up.]

Lucien’s gut roared warning.

First occasion in this war the alert preceded demise.

He glanced up.

And beheld it.

Severance.

A colossal blade-surge blanketing Lucien’s domain, plunging from on high like cleaved existence tumbling as verdict. Impossible to sidestep fully. Unblockable outright. Too swift for deliberation beyond an instant.

Lucien strove to shift.

Immobility gripped him.

Only now comprehension dawned.

Despite mute combat, despite traded strikes, Convergence had shepherded him subtly.

Guided flawlessly into an unseen convergence trap.

Where all viable escapes converged on one fatal point.

This one.

Severance’s blade-wave plunged down.

Lucien’s three leftover Life-Link Talismans turned void.

Not from depletion.

Severance severed the bonds themselves.

Lucien’s ties to revival snapped before revival could engage.

In that unreal heartbeat, every safeguard fled him.

Then the surge struck.

And Lucien perished.