100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 494 - Dungeon

Lucien passed the following days immersed in an activity that filled him with immense satisfaction.

He interred Spirit Mountains.

Positioned above one of the profound depths under Lootwell’s expansive domain, he peered into strata of excavated soil, precisely cleaved bedrock by laws, and arranged conduits where scores of Spirit Mountains now slumbered underground like colossal titans concealed beneath the earth's crust.

He had collected them across the years.

A portion originated from the ruin expedition. Numerous ones from resource locations. Others seized from foes.

Each one stood as a treasure on its own.

Together, however, they fell short.

Lucien had long grasped the magnitude of his challenge.

He ruled over a populace scattered through worlds and domains so immense that outdated counting techniques now seemed downright offensive.

Over ten billion individuals fell under his command now.

Faced with such vastness, even plenty appeared fleeting unless transformed into a structured system.

Thus, he embedded mountains into the land's profound base and started molding the environment around them.

The positioning held no randomness.

Spirit veins proved delicate entities. They wouldn't just remain where resources got buried and dutifully yield more. Instead, they reacted to compression, ley-line orientation, elemental harmony, ground firmness, nearby mana density, and if the regional world-law could tolerate heightened spiritual concentration without tearing apart.

Lucien accounted for every factor.

Layer upon layer of formations he overlaid atop the entombed mountains.

Certain ones pulled surrounding energy down and squeezed it tight. Others managed pressure to prevent the emerging veins from turning unstable. Some cleansed toxic distortions from the inflow. Others promoted extension so the mountains wouldn't stay as lone hoards but serve as cores for upcoming spirit-vein webs expanding into adjacent rock.

When completion arrived, the whole subsurface area resembled a secret heavenly blueprint etched below the domain.

Initial throbs of harmony had already started.

Time until fruition wouldn't stretch far.

Before long, integrated spirit veins would start yielding extractable spirit crystal, and with that mechanism settled, Lootwell would cease relying solely on prior stockpiles and recovered resource troves.

Wealth would emerge from right under its soil.

That achievement alone delighted him.

The subsequent issue proved straightforward.

Who would extract it?

He jotted a reminder to consult the appropriate departments afterward.

His mind then shifted forward.

Spirit veins represented merely one element required for a domain like his.

The following component—

consisted of dungeons.

Dungeons within the minor worlds neared the close of their innate utility.

Lucien recognized this fully.

Those dungeons arose as wounds from monster incursions that scarred the worlds. Their existence stemmed from prior external aggressive forces. Yet circumstances had evolved. Fresh incursions no longer sustained them.

Given time without intervention, those aged dungeons would gradually fade, crumble, and vanish.

To ordinary folk, such an outcome might seem welcome.

To Lucien, it rang as pure squander.

Thus, he harvested them.

The dungeon cores.

After extracting their cores, he permitted the dungeons proper to disintegrate.

The dungeon cores captivated him right away.

Beauty shone from them in that exasperating manner unique to profoundly efficient constructs, revealed only when a skilled observer comprehended their essence.

Superficially, they appeared as crystalline nuclei of wound-logic. Deeper scrutiny unveiled far greater complexity.

Identity got inscribed within them.

There lay the crucial element.

Worlds hadn't simply suffered monster damage. They retained memory of the harm. The core seized that recalled otherness and structured it.

It classified intruding entities akin to how a robust body sorts pathogens—not merely as "monster," but as organized threat profiles defined by attribute, motif, vibration, conduct, and ties to the wound spawning the dungeon.

Lucien perceived it via Structural Insight and almost chuckled with admiration.

The Primordial Slime displayed ridiculous precision.

This ought to have been mere injury.

Yet the injury operated as archivist, sieve, planetary countermeasure, and reclamation vault simultaneously.

That epiphany altered all.

For it signified Lucien required no from-scratch monster creation.

No manual crafting of alien essences or handmade foe blueprints needed.

The cores already captured the world’s archived view of the assailants.

He merely had to master retaining those archives, smoothly manifesting them anew, and supplying ample essence to sustain generation of reliable dungeon beings.

That final aspect held importance.

No dungeon thrived on classification solely.

Essence proved essential.

Lucien possessed solutions for it already.

He possessed the Gargoyle Ancestor.

He possessed Kharzun.

He possessed the Voidwalker that he and Eirene encountered in the initial resource site.

Just the three primary fuel sources could power lower dungeons for years with proper management, particularly when the systems recycled effectively.

Lucien harbored no sympathy regarding that matter.

Should their essence get fully depleted in the end, it merely converted justice into a public service.

Nevertheless, he realized it wouldn't suffice indefinitely.

For the most lethal settings and advanced training frameworks in the future, additional fuel sources would prove necessary.

Such a realization barely disturbed him.

Villains kept emerging across the world without cease.

He would merely refine his methods for collecting them.

•••

On that day, Lucien commenced the construction.

Haste played no part in his approach.

He devoted to dungeon creation the meticulous focus that an artist, engineer, and warlord would unanimously approve.

First, he examined the cores thoroughly.

Next, he fine-tuned them.

Afterward, he explored adjustments that preserved the inherent logic rendering them so sophisticated originally.

He identified the locations of identity-records, the strongest world-markings, spots for modifying monster expression without undermining genuineness, areas to accelerate the dungeon’s recycling, and places requiring safety limits to function as a training facility instead of a chaotic slaughterhouse.

Every detail received his contemplation.

What respawn speed suited monsters? How much essence could each floor expend simultaneously? How immersive should the environmental simulation feel?

Would dungeon monsters hold complete beast cores? No, that idea fell short.

Could they gain genuine personhood from prolonged essence feeding? Definitely not, especially not in a training dungeon.

Was exit feasible from any floor? Indeed, though not overly simple.

Could trainees skip floors sans clearance? Solely via regulated path authorizations.

Did monster conduct need to mirror natural habitat instincts? Absolutely. Without exception.

That final aspect held crucial importance.

Cardboard foes draped in monster hides held no appeal for him.

His goal was for trainees to grasp authentic monster behaviors within advantageous terrains.

Thus, he designed each floor based on Monsterdex entries and ecological realities.

Species thriving in damp shadows got precisely that. Those exploiting jagged heights and hidden sightlines received cliffs, fissures, and precarious rock formations. Swarm-dependent ones gained layouts enabling unified assaults over foolish open expanses.

True to his nature, Lucien enhanced the project continuously during construction.

A key insight arose from delving into the dungeon monsters' essence.

True living beings they were not.

Design dictated as much.

Creating intelligence just to let his people slaughter it for practice, then burden them with guilt, held zero attraction.

Therefore, he reconfigured the system accordingly.

Dungeon monsters gained behavioral identity, environmental instincts, combat patterns, and ecological traits.

Yet a true self remained absent.

Lawful hostility animated mere simulations.

Upon death, dissolution followed. Essence flowed back to the core. Recycling ensued, birthing replacements.

With exceptions for Lucien and his pets, naturally.

Their cheat connections persisted.

When pets slew dungeon monsters, returning essence faced interception by the drop-conversion mechanism tied to them.

Thus, the dungeon unwittingly transformed into an extra drop farm.

Realization dawned as Lucien stood amid the partially erected tower, prompting a smile that would unsettle those of stricter morals.

•••

An entire month elapsed in that labor.

Upon exiting the most intense construction phase, the territory had already coined its own name for the edifice.

Lucien issued no pompous declaration.

Sightings by the populace drove it.

None who beheld it reacted with indifference.

From training grounds, the tower ascended like a sky-defying vertical ordeal. Floors stacked in ascending taper, dominating the view. Its stark, towering profile frequently merged into clouds and ward-glows by time of day.

Graceful beauty eluded it.

Imposement defined it.

After enduring ever more outlandish proposals, Lucien chose the name.

The Ascension Spire.

Upward progression defined this tower's purpose.

Distinct themes, ecologies, monster varieties, and tactical challenges filled each floor.

Lower tiers covered predator detection, swarm assaults, terrain interpretation, withdrawal tactics, and synchronized monster actions.

Upper tiers awaited far graver trials someday.

Currently, accessible floors stayed constrained.

Anvil-Horn and allies had elevated the structure to one hundred floors.

But floors at full power?

Just about a dozen.

Fuel stayed the main limitation.

Sufficient essence sources let Lucien reliably stock the lower training floors. Currently, those levels could effectively hone fighters up to roughly the Third Stage of Transcendence.

That sufficed to rattle the entire territory.

Yet it fell short of his desires.

The tower's uppermost chamber housed the fuel sources proper, locked within regulated extraction arrays. They remained comatose, utterly unaware of their transformed state.

Each one now fueled what they loathed above all else.

A setup that bolstered Lucien's followers.

As the initial test phase kicked off, Lucien ushered in chosen trainees.

He held back from unveiling the full tower right away.

Supervised representative teams went inside instead.

Reactions hit fast.

Monsters exceeded expectations in strength.

Not from insane brute force. From flawless behavior.

They refused to linger in easy spots waiting to perish. Instead, they navigated their domains with hunter's superiority, leveraging ambush positions, chokepoints, terrain recall, and primal instincts—making basic drills seem laughably infantile.

That feature alone validated the tower's creation.

Trainees emerged battered, buzzing with thrill, and chattier than ever.

Their primary gripe felt oddly complimentary.

Middle and upper levels lacked readiness.

Lucien had planned for secure retreats.

Linked teleport arrays on every floor whisked trainees to the base if they chose withdrawal or emergencies prompted overseer intervention. He wouldn't permit the tower to devolve into a pointless slaughterhouse for foolish displays of courage.

Once the first complete trial wrapped up, the result shone clear.

The Ascension Spire delivered.

Lucien gazed skyward at the Ascension Spire from the training fields, evening breeze whispering softly around him.

Behind, fresh trainees debated level tactics like the tower was already daily routine.

This thrilled him.

Deeply.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Mentally, he added another reminder.

More fuel.

More floors.

Too many villains filled the world for resource lacks to linger as chronic woes.